The Irony of Pretentiousness
by DarkEclair
Summary: This story occurs months before the events of SOTTEoT. Warning: This story may not correspond or flow logically into the main story of SOTTEoT. Another Warning: Later chapters may *cough* will contain sexually explicit material. AlbelxNel.
1. Reconnaissance

The events in this story occur before the story of Star Ocean: Til The End of Time. Albel has not met Fayt, and Vox is still alive. Roughly, it could be assumed that this takes place months before the game's storyline. Albel is still in his mid-twenties. While I have considered writing a story about the events involving the Ascension of the Flame ceremony, I am saving that for later. This story will evolve into a romance...

However, this story, as you will see, may not flow logically into Star Ocean: Til The End of Time's storyline.

The Irony of Pretentiousness

Chapter 1

_Fools! Insignificant, bottom-feeding, impudent, impotent fools! Lick at the heels of your master, then bite him in the ass. It is typical of you peasant-minded whelps. Such is politics... Establishing these systems of governance, to serve all -only to end up serving the ignorant, and saving themselves. Which is why I try my hand neither in peasantry or governance. _

_I loft among the elite, maintaining a militant status, without external corruption. Should this manufactured world crumble, I am strong enough to support my existence! I have no need for petty indulgences, friendships, or faith in any aspect. _

_It is truly laughable to ponder that these peasants and monarchs rely on us, out of vain paranoia. I, along with two incompetent men, front a military force. We train our men strenuously, while their wenches take solace in kitchen-work. Why do we train rigorously? It is all due to King Airyglyph's inherent "need" to protect his Kingdom. It has never been about people, people are expendable! Protect the Kingdom, protect your power..._

_Naturally, Vox and Woltar conform to these customs, believing that there is a moralistic drive behind it all. Woltar, a man of good character, gullible and with good intention; Vox, an arrogant blow-hard, seeking glory and the King's favour. I, on the other hand, seek to serve myself. What Arzei Bohnleid -sorry, I practically choke on vomit when I call him the King- will never realize is that I have no allegiances! Not to him, not to his Kingdom, not to my fellow military leaders -no one. I pledge allegiance to the promise of a stable income! Arzei, his Kingdom, his people, and his military forces are nothing more than a pay check._

_Though, I must profess an honest, undying loathing of the Aquarian scum. I know that Queen has sent her spies here on reconnaissance missions, those incompetent palace guards have claimed enthusiastically that they have. I wouldn't expect anything less from a country of low-lives! I think I might disobey Arzei, and take the job of watchman myself! Threaten the guards, send them packing, and work alone -I'll catch those Aquarian spies, especially if Arzei's guards are incompetent enough to allow them to slip away. What a joke! The guards allow the scum to escape, and I'll probably be charged for threatening such useless bloodhounds! Who has committed treason, Arzei?_

Albel sat up, unable to sleep -pondering the insulting thoughts that clouded his consciousness. He is disgusted by everyone, they are all too weak and unwilling to strengthen themselves. Broken cogs in an already ill-functioning system. It was all a mockery to him, a parody of a once great idea. A nihilist understands the limits of an idea.

Yet, what was he to do? Was he to sit aimlessly, awaiting Arzei's command to actually implement military force -still receiving pay regardless? Or was Albel going to risk the charge of treason for the sake of maintaining secrecy against the Aquarians?

"Committing treason as a patriotic act? What delicious irony." He chuckled to himself.

Albel toyed with the idea, flattering himself with perpetuating images of defeating the Aquarian spies -leaving them locked, to rot in the dungeon. Albel didn't care about what Arzei ordered, Albel was still serving his purpose. After all, there is no fun in being payed for nothing.

"This isn't a service to you, or your country, Arzei... This is out of sheer detest for the Aquarians, your servants, and your hypocrisy." Albel laughed silently to himself.

Why would Kings command armies to protect the Kingdom, if he didn't expect them to do their jobs? The guards certainly aren't doing their jobs, so why not chip away at decaying structure? It would definitely warrant great pleasure to see the faces of the Aquarians once they were caught on castle grounds -to hear there cries as he forced them into submission, locking them up, whipping them until they fell unconscious.

"This is a war Arzei, all hatred between countries has been instigated. We should be furthering our own cause. If you are hoping that the Aquarians are forgiving, then you are a fool! As patrons of war, it is our goal to be indignant."

How he would love to say such truths to Arzei, instead he laughed to himself maniacally. How could Arzei be so ignorant to what was before him? Was it not obvious that Aquaria was aware that they were risking their lives to infiltrate enemy territory? What has become of attempts to win this war? Had everyone gone mad? Albel is not going to be bested by inferior spies, especially not for the sake of Arzei's dillusions. The Aquarians will pay dearly, whether it be with their limbs or lives.

Albel sighed, a grin stretching lazily across his moon-lit face. He allowed himself to fall backward, into his pillow. His breathing grew silent over the span of minutes, and the only indicator of life was the rise and fall of his naked chest with every breath.

"So this is Albel The Wicked..." She whispered to herself, watching Albel sleep.

She may not have heard the thoughts within his head, though her demeanor would suggest otherwise. She could infer that he was planning something. However, it was not within her morality to kill an unaware victim. Though she was shocked that he didn't notice her as she peered into the window next to his bunk, she wrote it off as a dazed stupor and a lack of sleep.

Queen Aquaria had sent word to Clair that information needed to be gathered -information regarding King Airyglyph's military leaders. Clair had dispatched her as the most reliable spy.

She could not believe her luck. She was merely searching for the base, when she had discovered both base and Captain. However, she was aware that luck would not get her far involving Albel. He possessed an undeniable disgust for the Aquarians, so she must watch her step. Perhaps covering her markings, and changing her clothes during daylight hours would be a good idea. Her red hair was prominent enough.


	2. An Encounter

**The Irony of Pretentiousness**

Chapter 2

He awoke, feeling slightly fatigued, regardless of the nine hours of sleep. Hell, it was practically noon! He smirked at this achievement, praising his long-awaited allowance to sleep for nine, uninterrupted hours. Usually, in order to attain such a feat, he required the aid of holistic sleep aids. Perhaps he should develop a schedule, it is not as though Albel The Wicked was going to be awakened by anyone that wasn't already suicidal.

Albel, ever compassionate, contemplated the sheer factor of awesomeness involved in slaughtering a few insipid Aquarians. He could not conceal a twisted grin as the images wafted through his demented mind, "The miserable fools wont last! I will make my presence known to them, and they still will stand powerless!" He was fond of soliloquies.

Traveling into the Kingdom now might be better than waiting until nightfall, being left to float around is always suspicious. Albel rarely showed his face in the Kingdom, unless Arzei sought audeience, or Albel felt compelled to visit a tavern. While Arzei's patrol guards have never been wise, Arzei would be concerned with him at the moment of their mentioning his name.

"I suppose that I have few options to sift... I'll remain in the tavern until nightfall, saunter to my true destination, and satisfy my lust!" Albel's eyelids fell, covering half of his eyes lazily.

He gazed downward, his clothes were scattered on the floor. With an exaggerated sigh, he climbed out of his bunk, wrestled his clothes onto his body, grabbing his katana as he left the room. The Kirlsa Training Facility had always been dank and drab, a perpetual eye-sore. At least it was spared the gaudy grandeur of Arzei's palace! Albel had never cared for aesthetics, at least regarding decor. Rather than stare at the numerous soldiers who addressed him with reverence and fear, he stared through them, to the walls at the end of every corridor. Everyone has always been, and will continue to be expendable.

The sun unleashed a wretched light to scorch his eyes and pale skin, while the humidity caused him to sweat, almost from first stepping foot in the sand. Not an appealing notion, he would prefer rain. Unfortunately, the trip would take longer by foot than that of what a typical dragon mount would offer. Complaining has never gotten him anywhere, he would rather move forward -the sooner he arrived in Airyglyph, the sooner he would be away from this wretched purgatory of molten sand.

Unaccustomed to common dialect, lifestyle, and hobbies of the Airyglyph inhabitants, she decided to remain within common gathering grounds. A crowd was easier to blend into than she had originally thought. She had changed her clothes to cover her intricate markings, and she had covered her head with a long hood to avoid catching a cold. The last thing she needed was to sneeze during a covert mission!

Compared to a native Airyglyphian, she seemed no different. People had assumed that she was a relative of the shops' owner, and she was welcomed with open arms. Luckily, for her, the shops' owner was not in town that week, which left a small margin for discovery of her allegiance.

Seated at a table on the second floor of the tavern, she sipped from her goblet of ale. The cold was depreciating, but at least she was kept warm by her cloak, protecting her from every burst of icy air emitting from the open window next to her. Unfortunately for her, she was unaccustomed to the habits of men in taverns. Alas, she was the only female in the establishment that evening!

gYou're gorgeous... How would you like to follow me home, beautiful?" A clearly inebriated man asked as he slouched over her table.

She rolled her eyes, and replied hesitantly, "I'd rather not."

gC'mon, let's have a little drinky together..."

Flashing a cold glare into his eyes, "Leave me be, or I'll relieve you of consciousness."

He staggered away, brandishing a facial confession of carelessness. Intoxicated men were always the most annoying... Though she had better things to consider than a petty man. For example, her plan to sneak into the palace basement. It would have to be a plan that she adhered to carefully. After all, there were prisoners down there who probably had not been in the company of a serious female for a long time. If she was not seen by them, the guards may not be able to detect her -oh, how men loved to cat-call.

Time was always passing slowly for her, she always felt bored when awaiting the task at hand. There was never any need for a hobby, it had always been one mission after the other. She had grown accustomed to a very demanding a dangerous lifestyle, all to protect her beloved Queen. Unfortunately, this operation required a lot more time to fulfill than she had anticipated.

"Well, look who it is!" A booming voice groaned from the lower level of the tavern, "If it isn't His Majesty's most disobedient lap-dog!"

She was not sure how far she wanted to move from her seat, despite her curiosity. Though, she would be the only one seated, which could also cause suspicion... So, she stood and rested against the railing, looking down upon what she assumed was the developing scene of a stereotypical bar-brawl.

His garnet eyes flashed an intense glare as he stared into the depth of the trembling azure orbs of the drunkard, "I would hold my tongue in the presence of greatness, were I you, worm! Lest you be impaled to the hilt..."

The drunkard nearly fell off of his stool, quivering as he stared up at the one whom he had foolishly insulted, "You're just like the rest of those bloodhounds! You have great strength, agility, and intellect, and your only use of it is through the torment of allies and enemies alike. You're all corrupt and defective lap-dogs!"

The intensity of the garnets were hid during a deep, guttural laugh, "Ah! But there is a difference between them and I, I hold allegiance with no man, whereas they expect a salary for an empty patriotic promise. That is where their allegiance lies, you insignificant whelp!"

The drunkard looked up into the eyes which had once again flashed open, staring into all of his senses. To the drunk, the man whom stood before him appeared to be an omnipotent force.

gFortunately, you possess a valid point in deeming every soldier 'corrupt,' especially considering their lecherous ways. I bet you'll be satisfied when a certain corrupt soldier acts no lament when he stabs you in the back during the heat of the war!"

Was it him? It certainly could not be anyone else. The man standing above the cowering drunkard was Albel Nox. He was truly despicable. The drunkard was clearly beyond his own mind, yet Albel was assessing him as if he were of sound consciousness!

She was disgusted by both Albel and the drunkard, however she was aware that Albel was in more control of his actions than the drunkard. She found it almost impressive that Albel could enrage her with nothing more than negativity directed towards another person. She wanted to briefly interfere, to call down to him, to tell him that this argument was pointless, and that if he were intelligent enough that he would have realized that. Instead, she watched from afar, growing progressively disgusted by Albel's consistent and ineffective assault.

Albel, despite his ever-present knowledge that he was frightening every inhabitant of the tavern, felt that his sense of superiority was fleeting. He no longer felt compelled to bear his fangs, therefore he allowed his anger to subside, whilst coldly dismissing the drunkard with his casual grin and bloodthirsty stare. A quickly delivered fright was always enough to keeps the drunks in their place... Well, anyone for that matter.

As the drunkard regained his minimal composure, he sat, whining to the barkeeper, as if the incident with the most feared man in all of King Airyglyph's military forces had never occurred. Albel nearly laughed aloud at the thought of a menial leech disregarding his existence, yet he felt no rage because of it. Instead, he climbed the stairs with a brooding strut. He took a seat near the woman whom was leaning over the railing, staring at the ground below.

She was nearly intriguing. Though he could not see her face, she was definitely too slender and shapely to be a male. He stared at her quietly, wondering if she was ever going to move. He chuckled as he considered that he may have confused her for a statue.

Oh, joy and perdition! She was enthralled and joyous now that Albel was sitting near her. There was no one else on the second floor but Albel and herself. She prayed that he did not speak, she did not want to address such a self-perpetuated antagonist. She could feel his eyes burning through her bodily-consuming cloak...

He sighed, "That is fabric unlike any that I have seen in this region..."

He knew.

With that sentence, she turned, walking calmly towards the stairs. Albel could not see any of her facial features, but he knew that she was not from this region.

He called out to her as she reached the last step, "Best not be from Aquaria, those scum are often killed on sight."

Staying calm was becoming a pain-staking process. She wanted to slaughter him in the same merciless fashion which she knew he had used on several of her late comrades. An overwhelming sense of malice juxtaposed her unnervingly calm stature, mirrored by the placidity of her concealed expression. As she walked across the tavern floor, the incessant, mindless laughing was evanescent -replaced with a resonating image of the smug grin that she knew Albel was wearing.

Night is falling fast, she thought, as she closed the door behind her. It was almost time to infiltrate the castle. Even at sunset, the guards still bothered to do their work. She wished that she could not believe the stories she had heard of their incompetence. No matter, she smirked, an hour's passing was all that was left... It was all that she needed.


	3. The Mission Begins

**The Irony of Pretentiousness**

Chapter 3

He had grown vexed with waiting to fool those idiots in armor, he felt compelled to leave for the castle immediately. He stood, staring down at all of the insignificant dolts, elated by the union of abhorring and anxious expressions directed towards him. Loud belches and laughs directed across the room had turned to faint murmurs, directed towards the closest neighbour. What a splendid deviation of reverence, he smirked.

With his remarkable posture, he glided down the stairs, shooting a cold look that seemed to grant each individual a sense of intimate fear. Why he had ever come to the tavern was a mystery, he had never touched his ale. Yet, that was not the only mystery...

That woman, he was convinced that she was Aquarian, yet he allowed her to escape unscathed! He could have taken advantage of that moment to not only steak fear into the hearts of all in attendance, but to make an example out of the foolish wench. As he walked through the doorway, he swore to himself that if he did see her again, she would be made aware of his wrath.

Thinking about that woman was of little consequence, it was time to take care of the amateur bloodhounds. He began walking, smirking as he passed people, they in return cast distraught gazes. How effortlessly he caused these people anxiety was amusing to him. Often, he would not glance at a person, yet obtain a negative reaction. Albel was becoming adept at subliminally coaxing people, everyone had professed a loathing for him. His claw would bear little influence in a guarded social surrounding, however he was aware that the common awareness of its ability to end surnominal legacies was enough to grant him notoriety. This nearly tacit stigma was a weapon that he had implemented often within this city.

"Nihil reprieve shall be granted to these fools," he muttered conceitedly to himself, "I shall teach them the requirements of a title such as 'guard.'"

As he came to the gate of the castle, he glanced upward. There were few lights, dim luminance amidst a quickly arriving darkness. Albel could not help but wonder if Arzei had lost his mind, without sufficient light, there would be less risk for any infiltrator! Albel's sense of battle was evoked with a self-proposed notion that the Aquarian woman would dare attempt to infiltrate the castle. Why else would she be here? It is not as though they are welcome within city limits. Come whatever may, he was determined to relieve the defects of their position.

Albel sauntered into the castle, the fools had left the door wide open. Sadly, it had come as no surprise. There was no sound, even though he moved, he could not hear his weight by the steps with which he had casually graced the floor. Typically, he would be able to hear the laughing of the buffoons from both the upper and ground floors -they were in the dungeons. Naturally, when they desire to defend the castle, it is from the criminals who are incarcerated. Predictable, useless worms.

During the few steps he had taken towards the basement stairs, voices began to grow louder. Erratic, slurred words... Of course, they were drunk on the job. Though he desired to release a roar of condescending laughter, he would much rather grant them no time to think about whom they were dealing with.

Albel had reached the base of the stairway, and within eye-shot stood the two inebriated imbeciles. They had not noticed Albel, whom had been standing merely four feet away. Had those idiots been leaning on each other for support this whole time?

"You ignorant fools," Albel barked, "What kind of career are you expecting to maintain after Arzei hears of your incompetence?"

The younger guard winced, and in a foolhardy, intoxicated reply, "What are you going to do? The Captain of the Black Brigade surely wouldn't want to lower himself to the rank of rat, now would he?"

Albel sneered, "Surely useless whelps such as yourselves require this well-paying job to offer The Captain of the Black Brigade a generous bribe to avoid losing your heads."

"Bring it on, you lanky twit!" The younger guard snapped back.

The elder guard quickly covered the mouth of his foolish peer, "Sir," he looked towards Albel, "Please, I will give you whatever sum of money you desire, but please, in return, do not inform Arzei, or any of the higher-ups about this."

Albel, concealing a laugh with a fearsome grin, "You imbeciles actually believe that a bribe will convince me of keeping the dead weight of defects on what will become my record? I am not a peon of Arzei, I am an elite. I am willing to wager my salary in the effect that neither of you are preforming the designated tasks required by your job descriptions." He coldly laughed, "Perhaps," brandishing his claw-clad arm, "I should relieve you of your task."

An expression of petrified anxiety had encompassed their faces, "Please, no!" one piped up, "Sir, we have been doing our work since before you arrived!"

Albel's teeth and claws seemed to glisten in unison, "Enlighten me, worm."

The younger guard had finally gained a sense of reverence within his drunken stupor, "We were convinced that we had seen someone in these dungeons, roaming freely outside of the bars."

Albel's glare intensified, "Then why were you not in pursuit of this person before I had witnessed you two lazily leaning on each other?

"Well..." The young guard gazed up at Albel sheepishly, "The person was gone before we could catch up."

Albel laughed cruelly, "I shall have you demoted for this."

She could hear the pleas of the guards, of Albel laughing as they fell to their knees. Peering cautiously around the corner, she could see Albel picking one of them up by the hair. After the progression of moments, she watched as he tossed him aside -he had obviously commanded them to leave their post, Albel was taking over this roost.

Turning away, she was panicking, it was so much easier to cope with this mission whilst drunken idiots were her only enemy -but Albel? The Captain of the Black Brigade was not someone whom she wanted on her trail. She prayed that her heart beat in synchronization with his footsteps that were drawing near her, in hopes that he would not hear the palpitations. Louder, the footsteps drew uncomfortably near. She begged the goddess to grant her enough darkness and stealth to complete the mission with her life. She ran.


	4. Trapped

**The Irony of Pretentiousness**

**Chapter 4**

It seemed that regardless of how silently she ran, how far from him she was, his breath could be felt upon the nape of her neck. She had never experienced such a baffling juxtaposition of hatred and fear: she wanted to fight him, to deliver the same merciless shedding of his blood that she knew Albel would partake in for sport; yet facing a murderer in his own dominion was not a beneficial start to her pursuit.

Keep running... To where? How long do these corridors stretch? What if there were a dead-end? Were he running at the moment, he would surely be trailing moments behind her, with footsteps as silent as her own.

Desperately, she searched and fumbled in the dark, praying that she could find some sort of cranny. With a secluded hiding spot she would definitely possess the attack of opportunity. Unfortunately, with all of her frantic pawing at the walls, she had found only more cells.

Her head was throbbing, her heart was pounding within the depths of her ears, and she was nearly panting. "That's it..." She thought, "There really is no exit or return to any former corridor... These halls will eventually come to a dead end. If I do not bother to turn around, I may venture too deep to return without being seen."

At this point, it was becoming ominously clear that she was not within the proper environment to properly attack her enemy, and yet it was not the central focus of her purpose for being within this castle. Had she forgotten? She was dispatched to obtain military information. Information that King Airyglyph had been rumored to store somewhere in the dungeons, as he was confident enough to not bother with a vault. That type of information would not be left lying around, there had to be a room somewhere.

She decided that she would run no deeper, she could see nothing, yet she felt an unfathomed sense of security. It were as if the Goddess was telling her that her answer was before her. She reached out, feeling a slight recession into the wall -it must be a door! She reached lower, to her delight, finding a handle. She turned the knob, opening the door without a sound, she entered.

She quietly closed the door behind her, waiting for a few moments to detect any sounds of movement beyond the door... She heard nothing. Perhaps she could use Runeology to shed some light within this darkened room. With a flick of her wrist, the room was illuminated slightly. It had been just as she had assumed, the documents were scattered across a table. To her amazement, there was an opening in the ceiling above -she could hide there, with or without the documents, until it was opportune to leave, taking everything with her. She stepped forward, holding her hand over the papers, and just as she had begun to skim the details, she felt an immense pressure on the back of her head.

Dizziness, nausea, and trouble breathing... From where was she being suspended? What had happened? The memories had returned as slowly as she had regained the ability to see her location. Sitting before her, sneering condescendingly, was Albel.

"I had been hoping the blow of the hilt did not kill you, I have been longing to indulge in that pleasure for over a few hours now..." He chuckled.

She stared at him, feeling shame. Not for her foolish allowance of capture, not for her over-obsession with vengeance, but for her overall failure to obtain for what she had been sent.

"Why sport such an apathetic expression? Did you honestly expect to escape my grasp? Those other idiots may have been easily fooled, yet the fates were against you from the moment I caught glance of you in that tavern." His eyes were reflecting the torchlight with every blink, intensifying his cold stare.

"You flatter yourself abundantly, perhaps you would best attach yourself to the ground you so ignorantly expect to float above." Even when shacked to a wall, she could exude an equally bold sense of obnoxiousness.

Albel's toothy grin quickly evolved into bearing fangs, "Were I you, I would best hold my tongue, lest it be painfully removed from your pretty head."

Why had she found that remotely complimentary? Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen.

"So tell me," His smirk returned, "Which one of Aquaria's wenches are you? With whom are you affiliated? I am adamantly aware of all of her 'secret' sub-organizations that she has been dispatching vicariously through various anonymous group leaders, so spare me any clueless act that you were instructed to perpetuate."

She smiled weakly, "What benefit would it be of yours?"

"I am in dire need of what to know to carve into the tombstone I will be returning to Aquios, alongside your corpse." He quickly shot back.

"I care not for your reputation, your confidence resonates beyond your abilities." She smirked, "That is the only reason I will tell you my name."

Half of Albel's mouth had twisted upwards, "Oh? Would you care to elaborate? I do love awaiting the prolixity of my captives."

She shot a glare towards him, burning through and beyond his eyes, "Nel Zelpher. You are certainly one to preach, you ostentatious executioner."

Albel chuckled, "My, are we not fiery? Perhaps I shall keep you alive and shackled, as a form of entertainment."

She stared vacantly into the depths of his eyes, "How you are callow..."

Albel was becoming irritated with this wench. He had thwarted her plans, captured her, and currently had her shackled to a wall, and yet she was not deterred from behaving as though she were his mortal enemy -she did not, and definitely would not submit. Albel knew that whether or not he would threaten her with torture that she possessed a strong will.

"While I find your conviction admirable, you are not doing yourself any favours, wench." He stared down his nose at her.

Little response. A heaving chest, a continuance of a pupil-less stare, and an effortless smirk painted across a docile expression.

His fists began to clench at his sides as he stood, moving slowly towards her, "No demands? Not even a request to return you to your beloved Queen?" He lifted her chin up, forcing their eyes to meet, he smirked, "You are rather interesting for Aquarian scum... I had always envisioned wenches of your flock perpetuating the damsel. This mesh of lethargy and spite is intriguing."

Without a change in expression, Nel returned the same cold eye-locked stare, "I had always envisioned men of your alleged caliber, crying to themselves at night to compensate for the false self-respect they exude throughout their living days."

As quickly as his emotionless glance had turned to a glare, Nel felt the thrash of his hand across her face, "Consider yourself lucky that I have no intention of implementing the claw-clad scar tissue."


	5. A Heated Conversation

The Irony of Pretentiousness

Chapter 5

How far away is dawn, Nel asked herself. Seeming hours had transpired, and yet he had done nothing. Why? Had she become collateral? Albel was not that kind of man. It was not within his character to submit his victories to higher authorities, regardless of orders. Considering that there were no orders for her arrest, there was no logical reason for Albel to leave her in shackles. Constantly staring, Albel seemed to be fixated on something -then again, it may be an empty stare.

Nel could not understand why he seemed so taciturn. Again, it was not within the brutal character that he vehemently portrayed. It was not what Albel might do that frightened her, it was his silence. Nel had never seen anyone sit petrified, in the manner of a statue. The sombre glow of the candles posed an ethereal reflection on his armor, hair, and exposed ivory skin. Had she not known his true nature, thought she, she may have assumed that he were not of this plane.

Albel wondered why he had felt so calm, why he felt it unnecessary to taunt her in the slightest. Night were in its prime, and yet he had done so little to revel in this small victory. Nel was entirely at his mercy; for what she may not cognitively allow, her body would submit.

Opportunity, in juxtaposition with loathing of the Aquarians, had yet to inspire impetuous action. Perhaps he should begin to acknowledge her, lest he be made to appear irresolute.

"You are aware of what this act will cost you?" Albel's eyes lifted to meet Nel's disquieted gaze.

Nel smirked innocently, "I have been aware of what I am risking since I submitted my resume."

Albel grinned, bearing his teeth, "You are one of the first whom have not been ignorant to death." He chuckled ominously, "It is rather refreshing."

Nel's gaze intensified, "I assume that you have no plans for me yet."

His relatively dulcet gaze reverted to anger, "That is rather presumptuous."

"Do you plan on handing me over to your superiors?"

How he loathed that word, "I do not, though they are of a higher rank than I, they exude little competence."

"Surely, they did not purchase their positions..." Nel smirked.

Albel could feel heat rise within his face, "Are you implying that I did not earn my title?"

"No," she sighed, "Please do not jump to conclusions. I am aware that you are an elitist, so please implement the logic which you so greatly revere."

He knew sarcasm, and she was definitely toying with him, "Quite the lip from a shackled wench."

Nel watched as Albel rose perfectly from his seat. He was the only man that she had known to maintain perfect posture. He appeared to step casually, moving calmly towards her. She found it strange that he was able to act in a manner to deceive his audience, and that he was still able to perpetuate such an act beyond others' awareness; as to make them feel calm, as he were making her feel.

"Please do not fake a calm demeanor with me," Nel laughed, "I am aware of your intentions."

He drew closer, Nel felt the heat of his breath, resonating on her face. She could not help but worry in regards to the current location of his claw. She could feel herself trembling, though she did not feel afraid. For what reason she were shaking, she were unaware. She watched in confusion as he raised his hand. Albel began brushing her cheek with his fingers.

Albel smiled, "I beg to differ..."


	6. Mercy

Before you read this, I need to let you know that there are not a lot of differences since that of my last submission. However, there is new content. If you would like to re-read this, fell free. If not, skip to about three quarters of the way through this entry. I apologize for the lateness of this entry. There will be more soon!

The Irony of Pretentiousness

Chapter 6

Though his skin resembled the pallor of snow, his touch was that of warm reception. Nel did not know what to think, though she could not help to assume his display was a ruse. Albel could probably write the book of emotional hypocrisy. This man was truly unpredictable -he had professed hatred of the Aquarians, and yet he appeared to be consoling her now. Even his eyes conveyed aged affliction. Regardless, she longed to spit on him.

"What right do you possess?" Nel sneered.

Albel retracted his hand, "False sentiment wont console you either."

Nel's glare fixated onto Albel's retreating pupils, "Not from you. You have slaughtered my comrades, along with countless others. I have no desire to seek solace within a slayer's grasp!"

His head mechanically tilted downward as he turned his back towards her, "I will not refute that statement."

"At the very least, you should repent and seek forgiveness from those whom you have scathed with your crimes."

Without turning to face her, Albel lifted his head, slightly over his shoulder, "Crimes? Do you have any grasp of what a war entails? Murder serves your proxy, your country."

"How many have you killed?" Nel shrieked, "How many innocent people have you slaughtered?"

Albel chuckled, "What a skewed perception of justice you have, Nel. What does it matter whether they are guilty or not? It is still a life, is it not? What is the objective determinant of innocence?"

Her teeth began to grit, "I too am a participant in this war."

"Considering that, you should be aware that a person's guilt on the war-field is determined by whether or not they are of the oppositional side."

"A life is a life." Nel sighed, "Why take so many?"

Albel turned to face her, lifting her chin to meet his eye-level, "While I detest Aquarians, I do not kill for pleasure's sake. I have taken an amount of lives nearly equivalent to the attempts on my own. The remainder were taken for the sake of defending my career."

Nel's eyes closed softly as she turned her head away from his grasp, "You are despicable."

Albel stepped away from her, turning towards where he had been sitting. He grasped the documents that Nel had attempted to steal. He turned to face her once more, "Tell me, what hue stains your hands?"

"My hands are not as bloodied as yours..."

"'A life is a life.'" Albel walked towards the door. As he reached to open it, he turned his head slightly towards her, "I suppose that you appreciate my unwillingness to release you from your shackles; I would not want you to console yourself with a slayer's grasp. Evaluate your self-righteousness with that infallibly omnipotent moral compass which you possess."

There had been no response to his comment. Albel decided that it was time to leave the room. The only dilemma that still provoked his consideration was whether or not he should leave her until morning, or return after his stroll. Rarely had Albel possessed the opportunity to train on the castle grounds late at night. Arzei would surely not be awakened by any noise, so there was no harm done.

Nel could not believe the audacity which he possessed to say such things. She could not tolerate it when people such as he could use logic to escape their condemnation. The only presence within the room that stimulated her attention was that of the candle flame. Though she could not psychologically justify the reason why, staring at the flame made her feel warmer. Just as they should be, the cells were truly inhospitable and dank.

She felt enraged, yet not to the extent which she did not feel compelled to sleep. As she fought the involuntary shutting of her eyelids, she attempted to fixate on the solely dancing flame. Nel became aware that resistance of sleep was fruitless when her perception of reality began to skew; she could swear that Albel's image was residing, sitting atop the chair. His toothy grin had never seemed so sinister.

As Albel slashed away at that training dummies, he could not help but internally comment on the ineffectiveness of them in comparison to physical beings, capable of strategy and locomotion. He truly possessed an acumen for the violent arts, which generally manifested itself through his claw. Tonight, he was implementing his katana. Albel was aware that this were not training so much as it were therapy, however it was an excuse to acquire his beloved night air.

"Was it right to leave her in there alone? Would Aquaria possess the gall to send a single scout?" Albel mused to himself.

"No, they typically do not send more than one on any mission -at least, this is what I have learned through experience." He snickered to himself, "What fools! They have yet to comprehend the concept of a force. An individual as pathetically trained and disciplined as they produce rarely see their goals achieved."

"Then again, all of a small force to battle all at once is too quick of an elimination." He sighed, "Perhaps Aquaria should place less emphasis on battle, and more priority on reconnaissance."

The cold of the night air made Albel's skin tingle. The soft brush of every breeze provoked a swifter movement. The blade sliced through the staked, lifeless figures as though they were nothingness. With every upward slash, the light of the moon reflected, pleasurably stinging his maroon eyes. Albel wondered is his father had ever found pleasure in a similar experience. What of his mother? What did it matter? Continue the onslaught, repress the counterproductive thoughts.

Nel had awaken to realize that the candle's flame had died, the chamber had been engulfed in darkness. The only heat that she could feel was that of her own breath. She could feel her blood pressure rising, and hear her heart beating in her ears. She was not afraid of darkness, however she found fear within knowing the restraints of her person within this darkness.

With the sense of sight disabled, she prayed that her remaining senses would prove useful. She could not detect a different scent, nor a temperature change. There was no sound within the chamber, nor any approaching foot steps beyond. While there may not be anything to worry about now, she was aware of the impending strife that she may face.

Albel stood in front of his mangled mannequin opponents, feeling satisfied. He felt confident that it was time to return to the chamber for interrogation. Considering that he had recently alleviated his acrimony unto the aforementioned figures, he felt little need to implement violence.

He walked calmly from the training grounds, into the castle, and towards the dungeon. He walked casually down the stairs, towards Nel's cell. It took no longer than fifteen seconds from the stair-base. He hoped that she had calmed down after an hour, however he knew that it were unlikely.

He peered in through the small slide-shutter, finding that the candle flame had expired. Before he had reached for the handle, he removed a small torch from the wall. Albel then proceeded to open the door. As he passed through the archway, he could see that Nel had fallen asleep. Walking to the other end of the chamber, he placed the torch within a holder on the furthest wall. He was surprised that his steps did not awaken her, as he had made no effort to silence them.

Albel leaned against the wall, next to Nel. He was unsure of what to inquire of first. Albel was aware of what she had come for, and possessed a general knowledge as to why she needed it. However, learning of your enemy's plans has always served a benefit.

"Wake up." Albel demanded with a conversational volume.

Nel groggily turned her head towards him, "What do you want, Nox?"

"Did you think that I was going to let you fester away before I learn of Aquaria's plans?" Albel smirked.

Nel snorted, "You will find more indigence than information from me."

"Come now," Albel coaxed, "I am in a positive mood. Please do not goad me into being otherwise."

"If you have not learned by now that I do not fear you, it is high time that you pull your head from out of your ass."

Albel laughed, "You are actually amusing when you are semi-conscious! Unfortunately I am not here to be amused."

"In that case, please do not waste our time. If I possessed any information regarding my queen's plans, I certainly would not grant you the information."

Albel sighed, "I have expected nothing more."

"Good, leave me be."

Albel was not about to accept defeat, he moved closer to her, his mouth next to her ear, "What if I were to allow you to escape from here, without the knowledge of you to anyone other than myself?"

Nel laughed, "Do not play stupid, I have seen the documents that I have intended to steal."

"You would have to read much more than one in order to grasp the slightest concept of our plans."

"How would you know?"

"The information among our military is not exclusive, unlike your own."

"Regardless, you hate my people too much to allow me to escape unscathed. You would probably have your superiors go after me."

Albel placed his hand on her shoulder, "Why would I send incompetent fools, when I could represent myself?"

Nel rolled her head to meet his flaccid expression, "Understandably so. However, what benefit does my release serve you?"

Albel coyly smiled, "'Please implement the logic which you so greatly revere.' What benefit does your captivity serve me? Your expression did not exude deceit when you claimed to possess no knowledge of Aquaria's plans."

Nel's eyebrow raised slightly, "You do not intend to kill me, or feed me to the wolves?"

His eyelids lowered as his pupils sought the floor, "No, and please refrain from forcing me to repeat myself."

Nel smiled, "And what if I desired to stay here?"

Rendered aghast by her remark, Albel did not know how to react. There was no logical reason for her to desire remaining here. She would eventually become malnourished, ill, and eventually killed. Albel was not a fool, however he was not wise in the measures of social context.

"Well," Albel shrugged, "I would have to call you a fool. I hold no power in your emancipation once Arzei is aware of you."

"King Airyglyph?"

Albel nodded, "It is your choice: either leave, or rot within this cellar. Regardless, I must eventually return to the Kirlsa Training Facility."

Her gaze shifted towards the floor, "I suppose I have no other option."

"I can ensure that you leave this city without notice. I only insist that you immediately return to your home, and do not return to this town. Should you return, I will kill you."

She looked up at him, attempting to conceal a smile, "I suppose I will take my leave."

As he searched for a spare cloak amongst the confiscated belongings of captives, Albel grew sickened by his willingness to help an Aquarian. Was he not committing the same treason that he had consciously accused Arzei of? He was beginning to wonder as to whether he had lost touch with his character. It did not matter, once she had left, she was no longer of any concern. The only person whom he had left to deal with was an idiot within the Kirlsa Facility.

What did any of this matter? Soon, he would be at an inn, sleeping until noon. Only to thereafter return to the Facility. The life that Albel was living had always been relatively simple: participate in combat, attend conferences at Headquarters, and pay for the roof and food with your sweat. In retrospect, his life was better than most civil servants -which tells a myriad of tales regarding peasant life.

After he had found a cloak long enough to cover her, Albel took the keys for her shackles off of a nearby rack, and headed back towards her cell. Wasting little time, Albel released Nel from her shackles, and handed her the cloak.

Albel frowned, "Do not consider this an act of mercy, I am only trying to prove a point."

Nel grabbed the garment from his outstretched hand, "Which i-"

"That I do not needlessly take lives for the sake of hatred: cease your self-righteousness."

She sighed, "Fine."

"I do not desire forgiveness for the slaughter of your allies."

Though that remark reminded Nel of her latent rage, she allowed her anger to falter, "For that, I can be happy."

Albel stared vacantly at her, "If you want plan on leaving, do it now, or remain here until the dogs find you."

Nel nodded in affirmation, then quickly dressed herself.

Albel led her through the darkened corridors, both moving silently. Though there was little risk of being caught -considering that no vassals would awaken until a few hours later- the situation seemed to demand the utmost caution.

He began to wonder whether or not Nel would send in more of her group after she returned dolefully to Queen Aquaria. Nel seemed the kind to willingly lose face for the sake of furthering her country; reinforcements and further pursuits would be probable. Come whatever may, Albel would guard his loathed kingdom.

As they ran through the streets, without a word gasped betwixt them, Albel could not prevent his mind from being engulfed by his ego. Considering that he was allowing Nel to go quietly, there was no guarantee that Nel would not speak of his generosity to her allies. This reputation, though unbelievable, would be spread: Aquarians and -worse- Airyglyphians suspicious of his loyalties. Is Nel's freedom worth being tried for treason? She certainly was not out of his reach, he could kill her now, and not risk anything. Aquarians are scum, and should subsequently be treated as such -yet he did not have a desire to kill her. With his reputation and (potentially) his life at stake, he repeatedly fought his imminent revelation: he possesses respect for Nel.

As they reached the kingdom's limits, Nel began to feel uneasy. Is Nox being sincere, or is he going to make an attempt on her life within moments? Would he come after her in the night, knowing that it would take her hours to reach her kingdom on foot? All he would have to do is acquire a mount, whether it be a dragon or a steed he would surely catch up with her. What if he hunted her down with the entire Black Brigade?

Albel stopped in his tracks, Nel halting soon after. Nel turned, hoping to make eye-contact, yet she was gazing in futility, into bang-clad darkness. She could feel her skin begin to crawl, though she did not reach for her daggers. Were her fears beginning to manifest? What was he plotting beneath such a sickly-pale epidermis? Why was he not moving?

Albel slowly turned his head upward, the fading moonlight unable to lighten any feature other than his mouth, "You are not to return here, and you are not to speak of what I have done. You will tell your Queen that your infiltration was unsuccessful, forcing you to flee. Though I am sure that she will find it strange when she hears no complaint from Airyglyph, this deceit is necessary -should you desire to resume breathing."

He watched as Nel's expression twisted to a crestfallen stare towards the ground, "I understand. Though you do realize that regardless of what I say, more of my group will follow in the same tracks?"

"I expect nothing less," He grinned, bearing his incisors, "However I will not grant them the same forgiveness which I have bestowed upon you."

Nel's gaze darted upward, determined, with her voice nearing stridency, "If that is the case, I may be forced to return."

Albel chuckled, "If your Queen is truly foolish enough to risk you twice, as you have implied, I await your return."

She clenched her fists, "She will not: I will come of my own volition. They are my comrades, and I will not have them fall because of my foolish mistakes! They are determined to retrieve those documents, and I will not falter in aiding them."

"I reiterate: I await your return. Expect no mercy beyond this morning's rise."

Nel longed to achieve eye-contact with him, to goad him into admitting why he would not attempt to kill her presently, though she knew that he would speak no more. Testing him, she turned her back to him, listening for the slightest movement. Seconds passed, and there was nothing. She turned to face him again, with a smile, only to watch his silhouette disappear into the kingdom.

Her smile faded quickly as she felt her stomach sink. Though she had little discernible evidence, she felt that he was being sincere. Though she could not rid herself of the alien feeling of loss, she knew that she must return to her kingdom immediately. As she turned to face the North East, the image of his face resonated. With an unusually heavy heart which she could not explain to herself, she embarked on her guilty journey. Though Nel did not want to admit it aloud, she knew that she was as bloodied as Albel.

As he allowed himself to fall onto the inn's mattress, Albel felt as though gravity had intensified. He could logically deduce that emotions were the cause of this. Cold and analytical, yet not naive enough to misinterpret his emotions. He understood that he felt conflicted and that he was experiencing lament. He knew that it would have been for the betterment of himself to kill Nel in the cell, to leave her body as a morbid trophy, a tribute to himself. Unfortunately he had become enthralled by her, her foolhardy will to venture to an enemy kingdom alone, her determined gaze despite her shackles, her loyalty despite the threat of death. Though he hated Aquarians, he respected this woman deeply: he nearly laughed aloud when he realized that she was more commendable than anyone within the Black Brigade.

In a silent deviation from reality, Albel imagined her committing treason against Aquaria, to join him in the Black Brigade -as his right hand. Shelby was nothing, and Albel was impressed that it took no more than a mere shade of her character to waver his guard. He allowed his eyelids to flutter open, and he felt a tingling rush throughout his cheeks. Albel, Commander of the Black Brigade, was smiling impetuously at the thought of an arranged enemy. Though he forced himself to think of the experience as sickening, his smile did not cease as he felt a heavy flutter throughout his body.


	7. Solitaire

The Irony of Pretentiousness

Chapter 7

After spending an entire night traveling from Airyglyph to Arias, Nel was beginning to crave refuge in the warm sheets on one of the base's many beds. Unfortunately, she would have to report to Clair first. Though Clair probably would be grateful to see Nel in one piece, Nel's obligation to inform the base of her failure to obtain the requested documents would inevitably lead to further confrontations with Albel and his Black Brigade.

Exhausted both mentally and physically, she sauntered towards the base, feeling the heat of the rising sun. Though she was aware that it would be prudent to heed Albel's warning, there was an imminent certainty that Clair and the Queen would not tolerate the failure of a mission. A harsh chastising was not a concern, it was the sending of more agents into the Black Brigade's grasp. Regardless of whether or not she told Clair of Albel's warning, the Queen would distribute more spies, and Albel is anticipating their arrival. Though Nel had faith in the group's forces, she was not foolish enough to ignore that the Black Brigade is comprised of at least twice as many men. She experienced a resonating sense of impeding doom for her and her comrades. Nel would never allow them to exclude her.

She pushed the door of the base open, without a creak or effort. Some of her comrades must have been out training early, which means that there are others whom are awake on the premises. As she passed through the wooden doorway, she could hear faint whispers emitting from further down the main corridor. Step by weary step, Nel managed to drag herself to the conference room. Clair turned to meet Nel's near floor-ward gaze. For Nel, Adray Lasbard had always been slightly creepy to look at upon entering a private conversation.

"Wow, you look terrible." Adray beamed.

Playfully glaring towards her father, Clair giggled. "Father, leave her alone, she is clearly exhausted."

"No kidding." Adray laughed heartily.

How was she supposed to tell them? By what means was she inclined to deliver this insulting failure to her superiors? Though she did not want to allow it, Nel could feel the heat of disdain consuming her features. Nel could feel Clair's gaze intensify, she was detecting Nel's failure without a verbal cue.

Clair frowned, "Seriously, what happened to you?"

Nel closed her eyes, and hung her head in shame, "I did not complete my mission."

"I had already inferred that, Nel." Clair's expression was that of friendly concern, "Though it does not matter. I know that something else happened to you, so please tell me what has happened."

Should she mention Albel? After all, there was no chance for further avoidance of confrontations from this point. Still, she felt a strange desire to keep her word... for an enemy? The only purpose of lying now would be to prevent herself from being branded a traitor for affiliating with Albel. It would have been bad enough had she made a pact for immunity with guards, but to comply with Albel? Nel knew that it meant banishment. She would mention Albel, though not the entirety or extent of their interaction.

Nel did her best to regain her posture and external composure, "I successfully infiltrated Airglyph's castle. There, I managed to maneuver through a couple of drunken guards, and find the treasury in which they stored their military information. Unfortunately, Albel Nox was aware of my presence-"

"How?" Adray nearly shouted.

Nel frowned, "While I was awaiting the designated time for my infiltration mission, my only option was to remain within a social surrounding to avoid suspicion. I did not expect Albel to arrive at the tavern, nor did I expect him to be so perceptive."

Clair's eyebrow raised, "What do you mean?"

"He was able to identify that the cloth of the cloak of which I was wearing to be alien to the Airyglyphian region. After that, he did not speak to me again. I left for my mission at the appropriate time, and I did not expect him to arrive at the castle-"

"He found you?" Adray blurted out.

"Yes, though not before punishing the drunkards-"

"Would you get to the point?"

Clair glared at Adray, "Maybe if you would allow her to finish without interruption, she would be able to speak."

Nel glanced at Adray to gauge a reaction: he was clearly refraining from speaking. She continued, "Before I had located the appropriate room, I was aware that Albel was mere yards away from me, so I needed to act quickly and quietly. I quickly entered the first unlocked room, expecting to find only a place to hide. Fortunately, it was the very room which I need to be in -the documents were within a close proximity. I knew that he was too near for me to successfully retrieve anything without being detected, so I hid beneath a loose floorboard. He entered the room, he was silent, though clearly searching for me. After a couple minutes of futile search, he left. I waited for another hour until I finally decided that it was appropriate to surface from beneath the dank solace."

Clair smiled, "So he didn't catch you."

"I am not finished." Nel began to feel sick to her stomach from all of her lies, but she decided to continue, "As I was reaching for the documents, I could hear footsteps approaching. I leaped behind the door, which was thankfully illuminated. As the door opened, I knew that it would be my only chance to escape. As he progressed to the back of the room, I quietly made my escape."

Nel hesitated, her heart was racing, and she was beginning to consider being caught in this scenario, "As I was exiting the castle grounds, I began to sense that he was not far behind me, and that he was aware of my intentions. I could practically feel his breath on my neck as I dove into a series of dark alleyways to escape him. I hid there for hours, and I never saw him after that. I know that he saw me: from a blanket of darkness in the slums, I witnessed his silhouette, standing still in silence for over a minute before he decided to leave."

"Please tell me that you left after you deemed it to be safe." Clair's eyes were fixated on Nel.

"I am standing here, aren't I?" As Nel smiled, she felt remorse for causing Clair this much worry through her lies. What would she had done if Nel told her the truth?

"Clair," Adray smiled, "She is fine, stop looking so worried about something that has passed! The only thing that Nel needs is a warm bed and some food."

Though Nel felt terrible for her lies, she liked the way that Adray was thinking, "Rest will serve me well. There is no need to remain concerned for me Clair: I am in one piece."

Clair smiled, "I know, I apologize. Please, get some rest. I will arrange for someone to send you some food once you awaken."

"We will discuss what measures to take after you are rested."

Nel smiled at Clair, then Adray, and respectfully bowed before she exited the room. She sauntered up the stairs, into a room that was thankfully unoccupied. She stripped to her undergarments, and climbed beneath the bed's large covers. With closed lids, she could swear that his scent was on her. Nel could not help but deem it intoxicating, nearly comforting.

The thoughts of Albel discovering her in the alley returned in her mind's eye. She imagined what he might do to her: sneer down at her, grab her, throw her against the wall, pin her there, move in closer until she could feel his breath, sending shivers down her spine. Nel caught herself shuddering... With a smile! What the Hell was she thinking? She was pleased by the thought of being beneath his grasp! Though she could stop herself from fantasizing, Nel could not convince herself that she was not a traitor. Yet, she still felt compelled to sleep, comforted by the thought of him. Regardless of what may come, she was not going to lie to herself... Nel was growing fond of the dark soldier.

A rude awakening from a ray of sunlight was not the best way for Albel to start his day. He knew from he position of the sun that it was roughly two hours until noon, thus time to return to the Kirlsa Training Facility. He walked casually out of the inn, into the streets. Albel could feel the eyes of some women whom were scanning him, wanting him. Fearful lust was an interesting concept to ponder. Though Albel rarely looked at women directly, he had excellent peripheral vision. He knew that several women were attractive, though he rarely considered indulging himself with any of them. Often, if the thought crossed his mind, he would quickly convince himself -perhaps impetuously- that the woman in question was nothing worth gracing them with his acknowledgment.

Albel had always considered himself very attractive, and unattainable by the general public -when considering his position within the military, he felt his reasoning to be justified. Unfortunately, he was occasionally approached by drunken males, whom clearly mistook him for a woman. This never ended well, and hilarity did not ensue. He began to recall a tavern visit from weeks ago, when a drunk fool grabbed Albel's ass, "Hey, you're very sexy girlie." Albel spun around, and punched him in the throat. Luckily, no one saw the first part of that interaction.

Shaking his head as the recollection faded, he passed through the entrance gates, walking into the snowy landscape. Albel knew that the moment he set foot on the Training Facility's grounds that he would be forced to deal with Shelby. Ah, Shelby, the foolish dimwit whom was always attempting to scale the ladder by any means necessary. There had been a few times where Albel had suspected Shelby of planning a usurpation. Despite Albel's position as Commander of the Black Brigade, the power to remove Shelby remained in the hands of Arzei. Since Albel was not one to whine, he decided that he could have all the fun that he needed for compensation by insulting Shelby at every impass. This was amusing because Shelby never seemed to understand 'big words.'

As Albel met the end of the bridge, he noticed that a dragon mount was left unattended. He decided that this was a perfect opportunity to commandeer the dragon, thus saving time. After all, he was not stealing it -he was borrowing it. Albel would send lackies to return the dragon upon his arrival.

Mounting the dragon, Albel noted that the creature was extremely receptive towards him. Albel wondered why the dragon of his youth could not have been so as well. A seamless transfer of thought, Albel was beginning to remember his father. He began to feel a cold isolation within his chest as he commanded the beast to fly higher and faster. 'Death in vain' was a resonating phrase within his mind.

Glou was a strong man, a man of reason and priority. A man whom understood the difference between protection and preventing a learning experience. Was that not the reason he threw himself in front of the demon's spit fire? Old fool, he thought, I was the one who failed the initiation, and he accepted my fate. If Glou were still alive, that war-monger Vox would have never disgraced the Dragon Brigade's name. Albel hates the Aquarians, but Vox is a war monger. Vox does not implement his position to protect his Kingdom, he abuses his title to continue this war.

"Vox is worth nothing. He is merely capitalizing off of his nephew." Albel muttered to himself, "Arzei, you fool, you have no idea when someone is using you."

After a few minutes, Albel had arrived. He landed the dragon outside of the Facility, telling the guards to watch the creature until further notice from designated peons. As he entered, he could hear a myriad of soldiers talking in various rooms. He was surprised that he had not heard Shelby's whining. Albel made his way to the rooftop, he decided that he wanted to train.

The rooftop was barren, which made it ideal for Albel's favourite pass-time: voluntary isolation. The winds were strangely brisk, and though he wanted to train, he was beginning to feel exhausted. Albel was well-rested, though he felt weak. His earlier recollections returned to him, and he began to feel hot. He rested against the cold brick walls.

Nearly everything was reminding him of his father lately. Every time Vox was mentioned, he remembered his father. Not because he had wrongfully taken his father's place, but because Vox is the antithesis of Glou. Glou was respectable, he earned whatever he received -Vox takes whatever he desires because he is Arzei's uncle. Glou treated everyone like human beings, despite his title -Vox walks over everyone because he is aware of his allotted power.

"And where were you?"

That voice, that annoying pestilence of a voice...

"I'm talking to you, pipsqueak!"

"It would serve you well to refrain from insulting me, Shelby. I am, and will continue to be, your superior."

Shelby snorted, "I don't think so, Nox. One day, you will be licking my boots!"

Albel could not contain a laugh, "I doubt that entirely! If only you possessed the same drive to run a military force as you exhaust while inflating your stomach."

"I do." Shelby quickly defended, "At least I wont run off, without any explanation. What would have happened if Aquarians attacked?"

Albel gazed up at Shelby, grinning, "If you do not know the answer to that question, you are unfit to be in any military force."

"A military force cannot attack without its commander!"

"Soldiers are not paid for their reliance on others!" Albel barked, "If you and the others cannot think for yourselves, then you are subjected to whatever you could have defended yourselves from. The Kingdom does not pay taxes to have their forces untrained."

Shelby's face turned bright red, "I swear Nox, one day I will give you what you deserve!"

"Begone, gelatinous orb! Return to whichever gutter you congealed in."

Shelby stormed off, leaving Albel in a near fit of laughter. Shelby was one of the only amusements Albel could abuse within these walls. He rested his head back against the wall, smiling. Strangely, he felt a little better knowing that there was stigma regarding his title. Feeling a backwards sense of pride, he allowed his mind to wander. After a few moments, his thoughts turned to the curvacious Nel. Albel knew that she would be on her way soon.


	8. Lust

**WARNING:** This is when the mature content comes heavily into play. This chapter has little bearing on the storyline, so if you would like to skip it, feel free to do so. This is my first venture into writing erotica -so if anyone has any tips, please feel free to share. I apologize for the lengthiness of this segment, and the fact that it is looking at one character only. I might do the same for the next chapter, depending on whether or not it turns out as well on print as it does in my head. I know its cliché: a chapter focusing on each character -but sometimes it works. Hopefully, it will when I attempt to put finger to keyboard.

The Irony of Pretentiousness

Chapter 8

Though the voluptuous red-head was an appealing thought, Albel knew that he was going to have to devise a plan. Would he bother warning his soldiers of the Aquarian arrival, as it was his duty as a military head? Or would he allow the dolts to fend for themselves? Without formal declaration of an arrival, Albel was aware that there was technically no reason to tell them -he could pretend that he had been unaware of the advance. Without evidence, it would be difficult to pin him with any sort of military dishonor.

Soldiers fumbling to gather their weapons, prepare their mounts, and run off towards prepared enemies -this thought was deliciously comical. Albel wondered if his soldiers would consider it suspicious when he was the only one prepared -or whether they would write it off as an aspect of reputation? He had suspected the latter, until he considered Shelby. That obese dog would try to make something of this, despite lack of evidence.

Wait? Had he seriously taken Shelby seriously? Albel knew that Arzei had laughed at Shelby's attempts in secret -amongst that idiot Vox and the others. Taking Shelby seriously... The thought made him sick. Rather than dwell on his mistake, Albel lifted his head and body from resting against the stone, and proceeded towards the doors of the rooftop's entrance.

As he made his way to his private chamber, to find the warm welcome: his bed. While he was a military Captain, and a devout follower of masculinity, Albel knew the value of luxury. While his luxuries were not excessive, he possessed the best accommodations in the Kirlsa Training Facility. Soldiers, servants, and Shelby all slept in cots, dined in the dining room, and bathed together -with respective optional separations for male and female. Whereas Albel was not questioned whenever he wanted to eat meals in his chamber -in fact, meals were delivered to him upon request! Next to Albel's room was a private washroom: fully equipped with a toilet, private bath, and grooming equipment.

The crowning luxury of any privacy which Albel possessed was his bed. Though the mattress was makeshift, it was still able to engulf any body that rested upon it within its sheathed downs. The blankets were made of cotton, cleaned on a nightly basis by the servants. Yet the pleasantry Albel longed for was the pillow of royal grade. His pillow was the largest in both width and length that he had ever seen, which was helpful for whenever he thrashed around during sleep. That pillow had kept him sleeping peacefully for nearly two years.

Unable to tease himself any longer, he threw himself upon his bed, hugging his pillow tightly -only to remember about a second-and-a-half later that he was Albel Nox, and that was not a very Noxy thing to do. He sat up, casting himself a glare from his reflection in his abnormally large mirror, then went into his private washroom.

He was too dirty to lie in bed, he needed to wash, and have the servants tend to his clothes. He quickly rang for some servants to bring hot water from the kitchen, to fill his bath, and take his soiled clothes thereafter.

Four young servant girls, whom Albel suspected were no older than fifteen, quickly arrived with six large buckets of heated water -pouring them into the bath with much relief at the loss of the weight. Slightly cautious regarding the young girls' level of puberty, Albel stripped naked behind a privacy wall. Though he knew that they were only able to see him from just below the shoulders, upward, he could not understand why they stared at him so intently, with a rose colour burned across their faces and wide-eyed anticipation.

"It was as I have feared..." He muttered to himself, disdainfully half-gazing towards the floor.

The tall brunette turned her green eyes upward, "What is wrong Captain Nox?"

Albel stroked his temples, hoping to ease his annoyance, "Take my clothes, and begone with you."

"That is rather rude." The short blond with freckles seemed offended, not as though it mattered.

"Need I repeat myself?" Albel cast a glare towards her, while watching a grin cross the remaining two girls' faces -he was unsure of what they were smiling about.

Then he finally understood.

"Okay!" The tiny red-head shouted, as she and her slightly chubbier black-haired friend moved towards the side of the privacy wall.

Albel quickly shielded his extremities with his bundle of clothes, hoping that none of them would fall out of place.

"Get back!" He shouted.

"Nuh-uh!" The chubby girl giggled.

"You said to!" Added the tiny red-head.

Albel groaned, slumped down to the floor, tucking his legs into cover his clearly desired appendage.

Outreaching a hand, filled with his clothes, using his spare to secure his legs, he glared towards both of the girls, "As I have directed, you will obey. Now, begone -Away with you!"

A look of defeat crossed their faces as they accepted his garments. They moved away from the privacy wall, as Albel stood. The blond girl with freckles snorted as her friends approached the door.

"And your problem is?" Albel snarled.

"It isn't as though we cannot see them on the open side of the skirt while you are training!" She laughed.

The tiny red-head spun around, "Can you really?"

Albel's eyes widened, "Its a sarong, now get the Hell out of here!"

As the girls hurried out of the room, giggling, the tiny red-head stopped at the door. Turning to face Albel, she coyly sniffed his shirt as she held it tightly to her face. Albel felt a shiver shoot down his spine as she shot him a huge grin, and ran away.

Albel found it strange that fifteen year old girls seemed a lot like common twenty year-old males when it came to sexual interest. Rather than dwell on the secret loss of dignity that he had experienced, he dashed towards the entry door, locking it tightly.

He sighed, grateful that there would be no more ignorant intrusions. Albel turned and walked happily towards his hot bath. He sat at its edge, and proceeded to undo the wraps around his hair. As the vibrant blond hair fell neatly out of the wraps, it caught the light of its surroundings. A tiny window and a few candles weakly illuminated the room after the girls had left. The door to his room had been shut and locked, with it, all of the light sources had been robbed. It was night, and the moon had risen to the exact height of the window, reflecting its pale glow upon Albel's skin.

He was finally at peace. Allowing himself to sink beneath the water for a few moments, Albel felt warm tingles spread from his torso outwards. Resurfacing, he swept his hair backward, though some of it sat stubbornly upon his defined shoulders. He wiped the water droplets from his thick black eyelashes with a sweep of his forearm. The paleness of the moon's light with the peachy aura of the candles seemed to play in harmony across his features, whether the water caused his body to glisten in certain areas or not.

The strain began to overtake him, he could feel his muscles finally taking their toll. He began to rub his calves and the back of his thighs, hoping to relieve some of the tension. Thankfully, he was successful. However he knew that he could not reach his back, and he would not be able to do a sufficient job on his arms. He decided that it would be best to ring from help again. He knew that the children would be in bed by now, so he would not have to suffer their indigence again.

Nearly ten second after he had rang the bell, and retreated back into the water, a female servant entered. Albel experienced mixed emotions though he felt disdain to deal with another female tonight, he knew that ever asking a request of a male would cause him great grief.

"You rang, Captain Nox? What assistance do you request?" Her voice was mature, soft in nature, yet slightly deeper than most females.

Albel turned his head upon his shoulder to look at her again. She was of average build, not very tall, perhaps close to Nel's height. She had platinum hair that passed just below her shoulders, and possessed a face which he expected a mother would have -yet she did not seem much older than he was. She seemed the nurturing type, which made him feel less awkward about what he was about to force her to undergo. Through her expression, he could sense no ulterior motive.

"Yes, I am in need of a massage to ease my aches. I am clearly unable to reach my back, and there is little sense in me massaging one arm after the other has been eased." Albel turned his head to face forward after he saw her approach.

"I understand, sir." He could almost hear her warm smile.

"You may call me Albel, and considering that you appear competent, I should like to refer to you by your name, and not 'worm.' That is, if I speak to you at all."

She chuckled, "Cherie."

Cherie rested on her knees behind Albel. He continued staring forward, though he had moved forward to allow her better access to his back -and to try to protect his manhood from her eyes. She began pressing into his shoulders, working outwards, down his arms, quickly working her way back upward gently, moving down his sides, then towards the middle of his back.

As he closed his eyes to relax, Nel returned to the forefront of his mind. Albel began to wonder if her touch was like this or better. How smooth was her skin? The porcelain skin which encased her soft features would surely be as fair as its colour. He could remember her scent vaguely: sweet, light and airy, barely detectable. It was strange that she did not reek of sweat after spending all of that time running from him.

Though her eyes were violet, he had seen them in many hues of emotion -yet he had been most fond of the gracious gaze of which she bestowed upon him impetuously once or twice. The expression had nearly spoke of respect, despite the hatred she had sworn towards him. Even covered in dirt, she was more appealing than most women. He smirked with wonder at the thought of which would be more vibrant upon her, the red of her hair, or the red of his soldiers? Though she seemed a frail creature, it gave him pleasure to think of her as primal and vengeful. Would she be so beautiful beneath his grip? Or would she struggle for power above his?

Despite his awareness that he would have to fulfill his promise on the battlefield, he would rather trace the slender red symbols which accentuated her thighs with his fingertips. Whether it was her lust or her anger towards him, Albel longed to indulge in it with her.

Albel opened his eyes, staring towards the other empty end of the bath, he allowed his retinas to burn a false image of her for his pleasure. Her short red hair, soaked, coyly framing her face and caressing her creamy neck. Porcelain skin, wet by the warm water, glistening with what little light would serve her figure justice. A pair of tender and supple breasts gently floating upon the water, while the nipples are encased safely from sight within the water. Deep violet eyes resting upon cheeks of crimson, beckoning him with each reveal from beneath heavy, long, black lashes -aimed towards him.

How would he approach such a delicacy? He could move towards her, sliding his hands behind her neck and lower back, exposing her for a series of frenzied, yet soft bites across her neck and shoulders, as he sits by her side. The proceeding to slide his hand from her lower back to caress one of her full, pale breasts -whilst continuing the assault on her neck. After the nipples are erect from stimulation from either hand or tongue, one hand would stay at her neck, allowing her to rest, as he slid the other between her long and slender thighs. He would probably keep his head near hers, to hear every gasp and moan -or would it be better to taste the vibrations thereof?

As Albel felt a pair of sharp nails drag across his shoulders, he felt a jolt of pleasure shoot across his spine in layers, and let out an uncontrollably loud moan -yet he refrained himself from completing Nel's name.

Cherie giggled, "Would you like me to take care of _that_, Albel?"

Albel turned his head, he saw that Cherie was pointing towards his member -which had become fully-erect. How had he not noticed that, he thought. Quickly, he shot back a glare, "No, and do not credit yourself for this, either, domestic."

"You're surprisingly thick for your weight."

"Refrain from looking at it, wench!" Albel swatted away her hands from his shoulders, "Begone. Should I find that you have spoken of this to anyone, I will ensure that you will be unfit to work anywhere other than the lowliest of Airyglyph's taverns."

Must to Albel's dismay, Cherie smiled calmly, "I understand, Albel." Quietly exiting thereafter.

Albel stared up towards the moon, knowing that the water would get cold shortly. Yet, he could not help pondering situations that may be beyond his grasp -affairs with the lovely Aquarian. 'Aquarian.' The word had disgusted him greatly, as did the people, yet she was one of them -exempt from his loathing. Perhaps because he loathed the Aquarians to such an extent that he would dream of violating a beautiful and seemingly virginal daughter of Aquios.

Though he could not be certain, Albel could not bring himself to accept the latter -regardless of how much it would serve his character. He did not feel that hatred burn into him when he cast his gaze upon her, Nel had to be exempt. Naturally, he did not, and would not feel love for her -yet when she had last been with him, he did not see the same Aquarian scum which he thought she was. Instead, he saw a sexually attractive woman -which is something that did not occur often.

Yet there was something strange about her, and enigma which Albel could not place. She radiated an obscure innocence, despite her blood-stained hands. Everything about her seemed more than what she portrayed as surface value. Nel is loyal to her country, her comrades, and her word. She does not seem naïve, despite what she seemed to follow blindly. Perhaps she didn't follow anything because she was told to, unlike other Aquarians. Genuine loyalty is not common.

The water had finally become cold, and the moon rose above, leaving the room a little darker. Albel rose out of the bath, dried himself with a long cloth which had hung from a chair near the door. He had lost his erection, yet his thoughts would not let go of her. Albel was puzzled: why would he be deconstructing someone which he currently viewed cautiously, as an object? Cautiously? Analysis out of fear? He had no reason to fear her.

He left the washroom after blowing out the candles, everything else could be handled by the servants after his awakening tomorrow. A faint smile crossed his face, he would sleep well tonight, and (possibly) torture Shelby tomorrow for mere amusement.

Crossing his room, Albel came to rest his folded arms atop a window ledge. He stared towards the moon and stars, which seemed to envelop the sky. After a few moments, he moved away, and sat on his bed. Blankly staring at the walls, trying to get Nel out of his head. Good luck.

The candle light cast his shadow upon the walls weakly. As the wick burnt down and out, Albel fell back, onto his comfortable reverie. He squirmed upwards, resting his head on his pillow, barely making an effort to cover his nudity with his blankets -covering just enough so that a servant who might enter will not see anything worth mentioning. He faded into his own thoughts, which seamlessly transitioned into sleep. He would try tomorrow... Try to keep her out of his mind, as anything more than a vehicle of his lust.

Side note: I know, you probably raised an eyebrow when you read 'toilet.' This toilet is much like the ones that were first used in Ancient Rome. Not that fancy-shmansy, high-end, porcelain luxury that we have today.


	9. Intermission

The Irony of Pretentiousness

Chapter 9

The sun had yet to crest over the horizon, yet Albel was already awake. He did not know why: he was still exhausted, and somehow could not manage to keeps his eyes closed. Did he have another nightmare which he could not recall? Perhaps it was stress? No, he is too advanced to experience stress -at least he thinks that way: illustrated by a sly grin at a decaying wall. At what point had he consciously sat up? Damn, he thought to himself, it must have been a nightmare.

Regardless, he had tried for a couple of hours to return to sleep, and as stated before, to no avail. Considering that the servants were not awake at this hour, he decided to wander the halls of his facility. There is no sense in training when groggy is an understatement. Besides, wandering around the halls might tired him out enough to achieve sleep.

Though the bright sphere had not shown a curve, the horizon gradually seemed to become aflame. Surely that busy-body Shelby would be awake, fruitlessly preparing for another day of a half-baked mutiny by now. Albel's lips parted impetuously to cast another sly grin at the wall, which was in a poor contrast to the weight which he felt beneath his eyes. An empty stare, and vacant grin.

Tossing his legs over the bedside, he proceeded to throw himself out of bed, throw on his military uniform (also known as the third un-lockable costume in the game, sans the hair colour change -I never understood that. So, you're telling me that their hair was magically dyed by putting on that outfit? Where are these guys shopping, and how do I get there? Why do their skin tones change in different costumes? I mean, I understand the premise of needing to change clothes, yet I see very few people turning from pasty white to chestnut coloured with the change of an outfit. ...I digress...), and saunter out of his chamber. Why he had decided to wear the uniform when he would probably be going back to sleep, he did not know. How often does anyone think rationally when they are absent-minded from sleep deprivation?

"I swear," he began to mutter to himself, "those girls had better not have taken my clothes anywhere but the wash... Teenage girls approaching sexual maturation are such annoying specimens."

Dragging his clawed hand across the wall for pseudo-balance, he continued down the corridor, listening for the faintest sound -the only sound being that of his own footfall. He had never allowed himself to drag his feet, he had always found the habit deplorable. After a few moments of silencing his steps, he could hear a faint crunching sound emitting from the mess hall.

He progressed towards its entrance, leaning casually against his claw upon the doorway, gazing upon his prime suspect.

Albel chuckled, "I mistook you for roaches."

Shelby spun around with food in his mouth, hanging open in awe. His table was clearly once covered in food.

"Perhaps I was not far off with the mark of my assumption." Albel sneered towards the culprit.

Weakly retaliating with half-baked candor, pointing a chubby finger in his direction, "What's it to you? People need to eat. You would understand that if you had any concept of humanity!"

"That is truly laughable, maggot." Albel paced slowly towards Shelby, until Albel was above him, staring down his nose upon the vermin, "I could have sworn that I designed strict rules which stated that every soldier is to eat only at the designated times set within the routine, unless granted permission otherwise."

Shelby became wide-eyed and spat out, "_I_ am second in command."

"Undeniably so, however, you hold no authority." Albel bore his toothy grin, "And what are rules worth without enforcement?"

Shelby backed himself painfully into his table, trying to escape the swift claw which had seized his arm.

Albel tightened the metallic grip, "Do not act as though you are doing this military any favours; I am aware of the back-stabbing you have committed, rallying the soldiers against me utilizing your idealistic tripe and incessant banter!"

Shelby let out a yelp, Albel quickly released his grip, shifting it towards the collar of Shelby's shirt -pulling Shelby into a direct and cruel gaze, "You are serving yourself in this endeavor, no one else, and I advise that you at least attempt to comprehend the weight of my position before you take control of something that you are not intelligent enough to direct."

Shelby's fearful gaze seamlessly turned into a cocky smile, "Oh, I have."

Albel laughed directly into his face, "Oh! Have you worm? What, exactly, have you bothered to understand about the administrative functions?"

"I understand that Vox has the influence to have you removed."

Albel's grip remained the same, though his expression shifted to anger, "What do you mean? Do you think that if you talk to him about whatever 'injustices' I am committing that he will speak to the King and have me removed? You think that because he is the uncle of Arzei Bohnleid that he holds any gravity above my own?"

"Apparently, he does." Shelby cackled.

Albel began shaking Shelby furiously, "Speak, maggot! Tell me what you have initiated!"

Shelby maintained a calm grin throughout Albel's assault, though did not speak until he finished, "The King is sending his uncle Vox to speak with you. If the letter with the imperial seal is correct, he should be arriving sometime within the next few hours."

Albel clenched his fist, but threw no punch, "You will see a great deal of strife for not delivering the letter to me -I inspect everything that comes into this garrison!"

"That is all that you are worried about?" Shelby chuckled.

Albel smiled, "Do you seriously think that I am concerned about Vox?"

Shelby's eyes widened, "You aren't worried at all?"

"Vox may be powerful and determined, but he is undisciplined and single-minded: I have little to fear."

Albel released his grip on Shelby, turned, and walked towards the door. He tilted his head back over his shoulder, "You should try to remember whom possesses the power to demote you."

Shelby sat silently, jaw-dropped in awe.

As Albel turned himself into the corridor, he leaned his back against the wall, awaiting any sound: hearing nothing. The callous smirk that had stretched so confidently across his slender jaw, shrunk to a mere frown.

Duke Vox would have intervened, regardless of Arzei's order. Had Vox caught wind of anything regarding Albel's behaviour, he would shamelessly interject himself -with no more than a motive to irritate Albel. With slight doubt, Albel continued to feel as though he had little to fear: regardless of Vox's end assessment, there was no one other than Albel befitting the title of Captain.

The left corner of his frown turned upward, his lip scraping past his incisor, "He must do better than this: feigning omnipotence is unbecoming."

He threw the weight of his torso forward, attaining balance quickly. Turning to face the long, benighted corridor, he sluggishly stepped forward, pacing eagerly towards his chamber. In need of solitude, weary of mutinous ploys. How long had Shelby sat aghast after the boastful claims and timely exit of his superior? Shelby was likely remaining in the same pathetic pose -at least, Albel could assume that, due to nearly deafening silence.

Reaching for the door, Albel pressed nearly the full weight of his body against it -what a

contrast in lieu of earlier events: he certainly was not this weak when he had nearly lifted Shelby from where he sat. With the heavy press, the door creaked open, slowly revealing a room slowly being illuminated by a latent sun. A sigh of relief was breathed as he recalled how effortlessly he could sleep whilst the sun beat harshly upon his face.

After stepping towards his bed in languish, he sat upon it, slowly realizing that the comfort of the bed was causing a decrease in concern for wearing his military uniform as pajamas. Lazily rolling himself beneath the sheets, he allowed himself to be engulfed by a uterine texture of blankets. Steadily, he fell asleep.

A loud, booming sound had caused Nel to awaken with a start. Upon quick visual inspection, nothing had fallen onto the floor; the door was locked, thus unable to be opened or slammed; the window had been shut all night, therefore could not fall...

Adray. It must have been Adray. There was no other person who would make that kind of noise this early in the morning! He was probably training inside again, despite Clair's orders. Nel could not help but chuckle at the thought of the child scolding the parent.

She steadily lifted herself out of bed, pulled her drawer open for fresh clothes, picked up her soiled ones, placing them in the laundry chute. Quickly fixing her bedhead with her fingers, she paced towards the door, unlocked, opened, proceeding downstairs.

Just as she had suspected: Adray had knocked over several of the shelving units within the main lobby. Clair had run out of the conference room just as Nel's foot had reached the top of the stairs. Clair scolded him, finger erect, as Adray stood, sulking in a floor-ward gaze. Neither of them had taken any notice of Nel.

"Good morning." Nel smiled towards the backwards pair.

Clair ceased scolding Adray, casting a hearty smile towards Nel, "Oh, did he wake you?"

Nel shook her head, "No," she felt as though Adray he learned his lesson, "I was awake long before that."

Adray's frown quickly shifted to a toothy grin, "So, how did you sleep?"

"Beautifully. This base has always possessed the prime of hospitable furnishings. Other than that, I was highly exhausted: I slept deeply."

"Glad to hear it!" Adray's thumb turned upwards.

Clair turned to face Nel fully, "Are you prepared to discuss what you could do next?"

Nodding her head, secretly in disdain, "Yes."

"Excellent," Clair's eyes closed as her smile stretched wider, "We will spare the others of this meeting, as it is confidential."

The three proceeded to the conference room, sat themselves at the long table, relatively close to each other. Nel could not help but feel pensive, she knew that she was going to be put in a compromising situation -though she was prepared for it.

Clair cleared her throat, "In lieu of recent events, it has become obvious that infiltration missions are insubstantial. Therefore, I propose that Nel lead our comrades, should any assault from the Airyglyphian military ensue."

Aghast, Nel quickly responded, "I beg your pardon, but I have yet to complete my training: I will be leading people whom are decades my senior!"

Clair smiled, "Yes, but as the Queen has placed great faith in you, I will do so as well –you have proven yourself to be reliable, consistently. It is only fitting that you would be the leader."

"But why?" Nel frowned, "There are people whom have been standing against the Airyglyphian military for decades, whom are far more suitable than I."

Adray frowned, "I fear the rumors of this town's downfall is true: our best soldiers are weathered, however, they have been repeatedly injured over the course of many painstaking battles."

Clair nodded, "Which is why I think it is time that we utilize the best of the youth. The Queen does not want to implement runological weapons as a first resort, despite the relentlessness of our opponent."

"I see." Nel's gaze fell towards the table.

Clair frowned, "You are not pleased with this promotion?"

Nel lifted her gaze towards Clair, shaking her head in denial, "It is not that. I never expected to undertake such an honorable task -I am grateful."

Clair smiled, "It is only natural. I must stay here in order to report to the Queen on a consistent basis: I needed someone whom I knew was trustworthy enough to fulfill the Queen's wishes."

Staring nearly blankly at the walls, Nel began to contemplate fighting against all three military forces, recalling Albel's warning. He would show no mercy if she returned... Would Apris protect her comrades from a nearly inevitable death? Nel froze at that thought: the Queen is aware of the Airyglyphian military's ambitions and relentlessness, and yet she will wait to implement runological weapons? Could Nel write something that seemed so careless off as faith in her organization? Was this how Albel became so jaded towards his King?

Clair broke Nel's concentration, "If you don't mind, we should figure out what would be best for you to do next, Nel."

"Yes," Nel looked towards Adray and Clair, "Despite the claim that the infiltrations are fruitless, I would like to follow through with one soon."

Adray stared at Nel with a raised eyebrow, clearly in disbelief, "Why? It is not as though we need to know exactly what they are doing -we know that they are going to be dirty about whatever assault they attempt!"

Nel shook her head, "With all due respect, do not be so foolish. It would be a grave mistake to try to defend our Sacred Kingdom against a three-tier military force which has proven itself to be overwhelming and unpredictable."

Clair frowned, "You are right, Nel."

Nel could feel a warming within her chest... Why had she requested another infiltration mission? This was going against Albel's warning, and she felt no desire to obtain information -why bother risking one's life when there is no desire to do so? Cynicism hit: is that not what the Queen was doing to every soldier when she prioritized runological resources above countless lives?

Adray snorted, "Whatever you two decide to do, I will support you. Just keep your wits about you, Nel. If you are anything like Nevelle, you may become a little careless. Don't let that carelessness obstruct your foresight."

Despite the sinking feeling in her chest, Nel smiled and nodded in affirmation, "I never have, and I do not intend on doing so."

"If you are certain that you want to undertake this self-appointed mission," Clair stared intently at Nel, "please be sure that you are physically prepared. We will provide you with the funds for whatever needs you may have. Please be careful about disguising yourself."

Nel smiled, "Clair, we go over this every time that I do this: there is nothing to worry about."

"Alright," A smile crossed Clair's face quickly, "I trust you."

"I will leave tomorrow." Bowing her head, Nel felt her body tremble. What had she just gotten herself into?

Clair's eyes widened, "So soon? Are you sure that you'll be alright?"

"Yes," Nel grinned, "there is truly nothing to worry about."

"In the meantime," Adray smiled, "relax, and enjoy your free time. And for the love of Apris, take a shower, I can smell you from five feet away."

Nel could feel her left eye twitch, "Okay... Thank you, Adray."


	10. Undermined

The Irony of Pretentiousness

Chapter 10

As though he possessed an innate alarm clock, Albel rose from his slumber before the sun was directly overhead. No one had bothered to wake him, which meant that Arzei's lapdog had yet to make an appearance. Thankfully, what little sleep Albel gained had granted him enough awareness to handle any of Vox's underhanded social ploys -if Vox was not allowed to implement violence, he possessed an acumen for manipulation that he had never wasted time unleashing.

With a quick motion of his legs, Albel launched himself off of the bed, and landed flawlessly, both feet on the floor. He did not feel content in changing out of his uniform, so he proceeded towards the mess hall.

Soldiers littered the benches, sloppily devouring their fine meals -paid for by the taxes of the Airyglyphian citizens. No, paying for such meals (which Arzei had demanded the soldiers receive) was not something that the affluent King would bother to do: get the hard-working public to do it instead. Though Albel did not normally feel pity for the social underlings, he understood the financial implications of various social classes: and due to such knowledge, he felt that Arzei was despicable.

Scoffing at the feral expressions of these loud-mouthed maggots, Albel felt inclined to whip the crowd into shape -mainly by meticulously slicing them with his claws. Sadly, this was an unbecoming act -even for a notorious military captain. Instead, he made his presence known by tactfully throwing his katana, which pierced the wall at the other end of the room. The sound of silence from the crowd resonated longer than the crash of the alloy piercing the brick. All eyes, fearfully, upon Albel: he had made his point, yet he felt compelled to yell at the whimpering muts.

Casting a grinning glare towards his inferiors, Albel proceeded to chastise them, "Though you are no better than pigs at a trough, it would serve your health well to at least _pretend_ that you are disciplined."

Though Shelby was closer to the pierced wall than Albel, the room was silent enough for Albel to assess that Shelby was the one who snickered... Or did he scoff? What did it matter: it was just another reason to make an example out of him.

"As all of you are aware, I can pierce far more than walls without the permission of Arzei." Shooting Shelby a swift smirking glare Albel continued, "Even though easy wins have never been my style, I would not hesitate to use any soldier of any rank to set an example. Yes, an example which would dangle upon the walls, by the fortitude of my blade, until his flesh corrodes to dust."

Shelby scoffed this time, Albel was sure of it, and he became infuriated. Before Albel could spout a quick line of threat, or gesture violently, he was shocked by the slow, sarcastic applause of a single person... Vox.

"So this is what you call military discipline, Nox?" Albel need not turn around to see that Vox was smiling smugly.

"Hmph," Albel shook his head, "What exactly do you expect a Captain to do? Implementing your methods of blowing smoke up of ones' rear end is a travesty."

Albel could practically hear Vox's cocky smile widen, "Surely you are aware that positive reinforcement is the cornerstone of a powerful military?"

How Albel longed to swing clenched fists at this pathetic joke of a military Captain.

Laughing, Vox discreetly taunted Albel, "Your father was akin to me in that regard."

Albel spun around, face knotted with rage, claw raised towards his loathed enemy, "Don't liken my father to the disposable, lap dog which you are!"

Eerily, nothing about Vox's demeanour or expression had changed: he stood perfectly postured, with a condescending stare, and a half-smile bearing his left canines, "I would consider it better to be a lap dog than a tyrant."

"Through tyranny, I will accomplish more than you have been able to fathom!"

"Come whatever may, you are still an infant in this spectrum." Vox grinned.

"What do you mean?" Albel shouted.

Shaking his head pompously, Vox replied, "You are no more prepared for the task of running an elite military force than you were the day you cost your father his life."

"You callous bastard!" Albel ran towards Vox, punching him in the face with a bare hand, knocking Vox to the ground.

Vox looked up at Albel, who was writhing and panting in fury, responding with nothing more than a smile to the malicious blow.

"What the Hell do you have to smile about?" Albel sneered.

Vox laughed coldly, "I am giving you taste of your own medicine, you infantile brat! It is the same ruthless warfare which you use to train these soldiers. So how do you feel?"

"I want to kill you!"

"I wonder how many of your self-described 'underlings' feel the same way..."

"Do you think that their petty emotions are of my concern? I am running a base here, not a tavern!"

Vox lifted himself easily to his feet, brushing off the dust, beaming at Albel, "Have you never heard of mutiny? Coup d'etat? You of all people who stress realism should understand the implications of your attitudes towards your soldiers. Lest you be usurped, I advise that you learn the customary measures of military function."

Albel could begin to hear hisses of 'tyrant' coming from the crowd of easily lead drones. He no longer wanted to deal with Vox's torture. Albel regained his composure, "Be silent on any matter other than your business."

"Very well," Vox's false sincerity was overwhelmed by a smug demeanour, "I am here because King Airyglyph demands your presence in the Kingdom's capital. It is a very personal matter regarding much of what we recently discussed."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"You came all the way here for that?" Albel laughed heartily, "You really are nothing more than a servant."

Vox nearly frowned, "A servant for our King, the provider of all for our military forces. You would do well to remember that, Nox."

"I would, were I foolish enough to not realize that the true financial providers of our forces are no more than citizens of this Kingdom -most of whom can barely afford to feed their children."

"I thought that you did not care for the petty problems of others." Vox scoffed.

Albel sneered, "There is a large difference between struggling to survive, and being handed everything you need. Of course, you wouldn't know that, because you have always been of the latter."

Vox slightly shrugged, "You may be right, but I have more to take care of than to waste time arguing here with you, Nox."

"Begone! Run your errands for your nephew who knows nothing more of the world beyond his dynastic title."

"Aye, I will. Lastly, King Airyglyph demands that you are in his presence before sundown tomorrow."

"Understood... Fetch."

Vox turned out of the mess hall, walking down the dank and dark corridor towards the entrance. Albel was left in the company of mindless, constructed glares of soldiers. He cast them all a grin, laughing to himself. Albel had never experienced anger to that extreme, it was nearly a high. He looked towards Shelby, who mirrored Vox's self-satisfied smile. "What are you smiling about, you one-note-joke? Mind your own business!"

Thankfully, Shelby was easier to scare than Vox, so he quickly ran out of the room with his tail between his legs. The cold glares within the room had not gone away, and Albel could swear that he could still hear the faint hisses.

"Listen up, worms!" Albel shouted, "If so much as one of you attempt to threaten my position in any more than a theoretical manner, it will cost you your head!"

Silence.

Albel chuckled, "I have always wanted to hand Shelby's head to Arzei on a silver platter, garnished with lettuce, with an apple stuck between that pig's cheeks."

It was common knowledge amidst the Black Brigade that Shelby was planning to over-throw Albel with the other soldiers utilized as support. They all seemed to believe that Shelby would be the better leader. Albel admitted that Shelby and himself were alike in one aspect: hedonism. They were both incredibly selfish, and in anything only for pleasure. Shelby got a kick out of the idea of running an elite force, but never bothered to do the calculations regarding work. He is nothing more than a loud-mouthed activist who could offer the soldiers nothing more than a free ride with a shovel to dig their own graves.

At least Albel is honest. Shelby is stringing them along with idealistic notions of equality, empathetic rule, and any other sentimental junk that he could muster up. There are ranks established in the military for a reason, to permit military success through evaluating each soldier's skills, thus rendering equality pointless. You cannot send a grunt to the front-lines without copious amounts of training, you can rarely teach a skilled archer the way of the blade, and you can never expect someone who is used to a high title to preform menial labour which grunts are expected to do. Empathetic rule at that point would mean nothing because many people would be dissatisfied, thus eventually demanding change anyway.

These morons would be strung around, with no structure, serious discipline, or punishment, and they would never learn anything more than reliance on others instead of autonomy. Albel would not deny that teamwork on the battlefield is occasionally necessary, however everyone must know survival tactics -it is essential in the training as decreed by Arzei!

Albel had become bored with analyzing the fools' reasoning. There was nothing better to do around the base, and he did not feel compelled to stay there. He decided that he would go to Airyglyph city a day early, spend a night at the inn, and pay Arzei a visit in the morning.


	11. Calmly Traveling

The Irony of Pretentiousness

Chapter 11

A night had come and passed sooner than Nel would have hoped, she was still tired from the last excursion. It was nearing night, and Nel had recently set off on another infiltration mission. She was happy that Adray had given her a cloak of Airyglyphian fibers, of which he had taken from a foolhardy young soldier whom did not understand the vast experience on his opponent's behalf. Nel was not concerned that anyone, Airyglyphian elites included, would be able to pick out the differences in the opposing country's fabric -that was a trait belonging solely to Albel. He seemed to be the only soldier dedicated enough in his hatred to learn every aspect of his enemy.

The fear is ever-present: Nel replayed a scenario within her head, Albel trying to kill her, succeeding, and not breathing a sigh of regret. Was the apparent mercy on his behalf nothing more than a ploy? Toy with her, fill her with graciousness, to have her return willfully, to eventually have her head on a platter for all of Airyglyph to see? Even in death Nel knew that disgrace would tarnish not only her Kingdom, but her family name as well.

However, if Albel's aim was to use her as a trophy, or any incitement towards Aquarian forces, he could have done that easily when he had her in captivity. She would have to be careful regardless, cautiously optimistic. After all, Albel was the relentless killer of several Aquarian soldiers; one who slaughtered and tortured outside of war-times, for the thrill of the kill. With every repeating recollection of those merciless acts, she could believe that he had shown her mercy, but what did it matter when her heart darkened towards him with those memories? As she traveled, her stomach sunk deep within the footprints she had left behind, feeling emptier with every step. Nel knew that every tender notion betwixt she and Albel was treason.

The rising moonlight misted the hilly paths, the darkness and the cold unified to evoke and instill the most desolate emotion. The very premise of her self-appointed mission was treacherous: she would not recover any information by trying, her goal was to see Albel, despite his warning. Would he follow through with his threat? A thin bead of sorrow slipped down Nel's cheek, freezing on her face as she decided that it may be better to die by his blade than to allow her infatuate pursuit to shame her home-land.

The winds that howled, urging her forward, seeming to encourage her desires filled her with a vague desire to abandon her life-long passions... To find the one who killed her father, to serve Queen Aquaria, and to stand by her country against Airyglyph. She confessed silently that she felt like a shadow of herself; that her passions were not the only aspect of her essence which were slipping into an abyss of time. Ambitions becoming hollow, vague curious desires aflame and burning her conscience... Distant from herself, she began to wonder what her father would think about what she considered to be inevitable upon her choice of action. Would these winds carry his voice to torture her with whispers of 'traitor?'

As she clasped at the cloak to prevent herself from freezing, she noticed that she was closer to the Kingdom than she had thought. The horizon emitted an ominous glow, as if the sun were rising in the middle of the night -it was definitely the Kingdom of Airyglyph.

The tavern was alive with the sound of drunken low-lives, paying the debt of the pent-up lusts from the lack of intimacy from their wives unto the bar wenches. Albel felt a little sympathy towards the women who committed their lives to the men they once were -yet could not stop from chastising them for remaining with the fools.

As he sipped a bit of ale, he wondered why he had bothered coming to this place, when he could have gone to sleep early. So many men, slouching over their eighth mug of ale, making exaggerated gestures towards their fellow bottom-feeders, shouting unintelligibly. Albel felt a jolt of pride as he felt above them in the basest means of mannerisms. Albel sat quietly, disturbing no one, perfectly postured, nearly austere -yet these apes could not seem to evolve, even for their momentary, sad attempts of trying to sustain female attention.

Glancing around the room vaguely, Albel noticed that the wenches were gazing at him with a sad longing. It didn't seem to be romantic -perhaps they were hoping for more customers with his brand of public demeanor. The tavern lord was also staring at him from the corner of his eye as he pretended to fixate his attention on a mug he was cleaning. Albel decided to let him know that he was caught.

"What is wrong, good sir?" Albel sneered mockingly, "Are you in the same favour of your wenches?"

The tavern lord cracked half a smile, "What do you mean by that, Albel?"

Albel huffed, "Surely you're wishing for more civilized clientele. Though I must ask, are you my lover?"

The tavern lord laughed heartily, "No to both. I certainly wouldn't call you civilized, and you already know the explanation to the latter."

"Well then," Albel grinned bearing his fangs, "I suggest that you address one of status on a basis other than first name."

Smiling smugly, the tavern lord replied, "Not a problem, sir. At least you are sober enough for civilized conversation."

"Yes, I have not mastered the dialect of drunken mongoloid." Albel smiled, "So you're hoping for a conversation beyond this, aren't you?"

Nodding his head, the tavern lord walked towards Albel, maintaining his position behind the counter, "Where is your lady friend, sir?"

Albel was dumb-struck, though still quick to reply with no more than a quizzical raise of a brow, "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play coy, Nox," The tavern lord laughed "If most of the women in this Kingdom are looking at you the way my employees are, certainly you know what I am talking about."

Albel made quick and cold eye contact, "In all sincerity, I have no understanding of what you speak."

"Really?" The tavern lord raised an eyebrow with a feint smile, "So you're unaware that the Kingdom is talking about the cloaked woman whom you escorted out of the gates?"

Albel snorted, regaining a cocky smile, "What of it? What business is it of this Kingdom's gossips?"

The tavern lord shrugged, "None as far as I am concerned. It was no more than an innocent question on my behalf. I am far too accustomed to hearing the lives of others, and not speaking a word."

"Know this," Albel leaned forward, grabbing the lord's collar, pulling him closer to the cockily grinning face, "I am not bound to any woman, nor am I in pursuit of any. What goes on behind my closed doors, or in the public eye, is no one's concern but my own."

A coy smile crossed the lord's face, "There is no need to convince me, I care not. I know only what I can confirm. Though you should be a little more careful when considering the opinions of your superiors, they will call fact whatever they deem fact -no matter how subjective it is on their greedy behalf."

Albel let go of his collar, looking into the face of a naturally fearless man, "What do you know of my superiors?"

The tavern lord's smile gleamed beneath the curtain of blond hair, "I was one of your ranks once. You're looking at a man who did not care for unspoken social stipulations. I made the tiniest and most innocent mistake of attempting to bed a few women, and it ruined my reputation within the military."

Albel smiled, "This has nothing to do with me."

The lord chuckled gravely, "I understand that you are already on thin ice. Perhaps you should take some warnings that are void of status, before you are called out by those who are above you."

"Point taken." Albel smiled smugly, slamming some money on the table, "I will be taking my leave, may you indulge in the finest of debaucheries."

The tavern lord replied with a smile, "I already do."

Walking away, Albel could not deny that he felt an interesting connection with that man, nearly humbling, but somewhat nostalgic. It was not the question of his personal life within the public eye that bothered Albel, it was that the tavern lord knew that Albel was close to trouble with his 'superiors.' The thought taunted him, picked at his conscious, and left him feeling paranoid. After the displays of vulgar power he had made amongst his military, he knew that at least one of them had been reported directly to Arzei.

Perhaps it would cost him his title? Even with a possibility as damning as that, Albel laughed. What the Hell did it matter? Sticking around to train a lot of ungrateful maggots with no benefit to himself hardly seemed worth the title. With the underlings laziness, the superiors have grown soft -too empathetic to care about the initial objectives they had placed within the constitutions of the military.

They could toss him to the curb, replace him with whomever they deemed fit for their self-acclaimed altruistic intentions, and learn the folly of their ways as soon as the Kingdom feel apart after a few battles. Oh, how the mighty Shelby the Heavy Handed would fall.

The only benefit that the military served Albel was that all of his kills were deemed nothing more than defense, even if Albel had been the one to start the fight. Through the military, Albel was able to express his homicidal impulses, and not bat an eyelash. He knew that he was not a respectable soldier, not even in terms of helping his Kingdom. Albel never tried to help his Kingdom, every bit of alleged help was no more than a by-product of his kills -and Albel had no doubt that Arzei knew this after a few years of his service.

He found it strange that no matter how disgraceful he has been, the Nox name never tarnished. He could never shame Glou Nox, Albel had been blamed of doing wrong to him since the Ascension of the Flame ceremony. That's right, Glou was the only respectable Nox in the eyes of the Kingdom, yet Albel still had no problem fulfilling the needs of a manipulative force that did not have the discipline to run itself. The only decent leader left is Count Woltar, Albel thought.

Woltar was the one person who never turned his back on Albel, despite public demand. If it were not for Woltar, Albel may have never been integrated into the military force. Albel knew that Woltar was the only person worth respecting now, even though he has always been a little soft, he is always rational. Perhaps he could turn to Woltar for advice regarding his dilemma if he could not come up with an answer soon. Then again, tomorrow might prove Albel jobless.

Albel wandered the streets of Airyglyph, not ready to sleep, walking merely for the sake of boredom. Listening to the faint whispers of families and lovers within their homes as he passed by them. That would be the only life waiting for him if he were to leave the military, everything else was a dead-end option. Though serial killer was an appealing title, it would land him nowhere; at least within the military he could kill and maintain all luxury. The thought of a wife and kids did not appeal to Albel. Why bother? So the children can grow up, learn to hate you, and do everything in their power to spite you? So that your wife could grow old, bitter, and unappealing in more aspects than physical? Family does not matter now, why would it matter later? The concept held little sentimentality for Albel, and is therefore of no importance. Maybe he was content with his job after all... Maybe it was worth making attempts to appease Arzei -if only for the sake of retaining the power to slaughter without repercussion.

Awakening from the hypnosis that the sound of his own footsteps had bestowed upon him, Albel realized that he had been wandering aimlessly for a whole hour: his feet had led him to the front gates of the castle. The night was growing older, he would need to wait until noon of the next day, until Arzei was ready for him.

Turning around, retracing the vague footsteps in the shallow snow, ground-ward stares were not his style. Forcefully adjusting himself into the pompous attitude he was used to, he shot the world an upward grin, marveling at his own personal excellence. Arzei could not replace him even if he wanted to, or so he thought as he closed his eyes to feel the warmth of his assurance.

Stepping forward, eyes shut, beaming, this was the image he prided himself upon flaunting even when uncertain. The cold air had never had less of an impact upon him, he was heated with self-deification. That was until he heard the chirp of a soft voice...

"I'm happy to see you too..."


	12. Lust Fulfilled

WARNING: Okay, seriously X-rated things will happen. If you need to close your eyes, stick your fingers in your ears, sing incoherently to yourself, and skip the rest of the chapter once you know the part is coming up, do so. I am a novice erotica writer -this is my first serious attempt.

The Irony of Pretentiousness

Chapter 12

Rather than muse regarding the familiarity of the voice, Albel's eyes flashed open, as he stood flabbergasted before the elusive red-head of his lustful convictions. Though he was feigning the pleasure of seeing her, he allowed a different emotion to surface.

Albel flung his arms, gripping Nel's shoulders, "What the Hell are you doing here? Have you no respect for my sincerest threats?"

"Actually," Nel paused, her smile diminishing, "I have no idea why I approached you, I was supposed to execute this in a more professional fashion, but-"

"What do you mean 'this'?" Albel shook her furiously, "You of all people should heed my warnings! Do you have any idea as to what risk you have placed upon yourself?"

Nel shot him a cold glare, brushing off his grasp, retaining her composure, "Yes, I do. Though I really have nothing better to do than deliver my head on a platter to you."

Albel clenched his fist, "Why are you here, fool? You truly have no concept of discretion!"

"Officially, I am here to fulfill the mission which I failed last time." She half-smiled.

Albel rolled his eyes, "That is not what you're here for, is it?"

If Albel wasn't convinced that the cold wind was pummeling her cheeks, he would have sworn that she had begun to blush, "In honesty, it is not. I am here because I am confused."

His eyebrow shot upward, "As to whether or not you desire to live?"

"In a sense, I suppose you could say that." Nel frowned, "Though that is not the sum of my confusion."

"Well," Albel had been taken aback, "What more is there? Have you been cast aside by your beloved Queen?"

"No, though I fear I may be soon, among other nightmares."

"Come now," Albel rested his hand on his hip, sneering down at her, "What of your intentions?"

Nel cast her eyes down towards the ground, "I am not here to obtain anything. That is not my desire this time."

Albel chuckled, hunching over to meet eyes, "How do you expect to service your Kingdom then?"

Bashfully, Nel cast her eyes to the left of his glance, "This excursion is of a selfish nature."

"How so?" Albel lifted her chin with his hand, forcing eye contact, watching her pupils dilate, grinning madly into her fear, "What could you gain from coming here? Would you find it of reverence to be slaughtered by my hand?"

A blissful wave of knots swept from inside Nel's stomach, into her chest, and through her arms and legs. She could feel her eyes involuntarily closing, and it seemed as though her body was going limp, though she was standing perfectly still. She could feel the blood rushing to her extremities, she attempted to conceal her trembling, and failed miserably.

She was standing, shaking, Albel did not think that it had anything to do with the cold night air. He never moved his hand from where her chin rested, but he could not stop staring at the moonlight which reflected in her hair as it was tousled by the wind, beneath the hood of her cloak. The red tresses framed her face regardless of which way they were spun. Her pale skin was reddened by the brash caresses of the icy wind, and her chest seemed to be heaving abnormally. As his eyes traced from her chest, to the nape of her neck, to her face, her eyes fluttered open -a brilliant violet colour against pink skin.

"You do not seem to be fairing well in this weather." Albel chuckled.

"What is so comedic about that? I am freezing!" Nel could no longer contain her shivers.

"You are so weak and helpless, its truly pathetic." He removed his hand from beneath her chin, "You are in need of shelter."

Nel huffed, "What do you care?"

Albel grinned cheekily, "You would snub my grace a second time? That is no concern of mine, in that case, do not bother following me to where I will lay."

"You are offering me shelter?" Nel's eyebrow shot upward, "I didn't realize..."

Albel sighed indignantly, "Are you coming with me or not?"

Nel nodded, following behind Albel as he began to walk away.

Albel turned his head backward, "The only shelter I have to offer tonight is the inn, after tonight I may have none."

Nel shouted over the winds, "What do you mean?"

"It wont be much longer until you know exactly what I am talking about."

It was no longer than fiver minutes before they had reached the inn. Albel quickly addressed the innkeeper, while Nel remained silent, keeping her face hidden beneath her hood. Though the innkeeper was openly suspicious towards she and Albel, he did not bother asking any questions -Albel was not the type of man to be questioned.

Nel and Albel climbed the short length of stairs to their room. They were both aware that they were the only two in the inn that evening. They entered their room, which was sparsely decorated. Of course, there was but one bed.

Nel pulled her hood down, "We are the only guests here for the night, right?"

"Yes" Albel still had his back to her.

"Why didn't we get separate rooms?"

"It is cheaper this way."

"Surely rooms with two beds are not more expensive than this...?"

"Oh," Albel sighed heavily, adopting a sultry tone, "My accommodations are not to your liking?"

Nel quickly attempted to retreat her concerns, "N-no, that is not what I meant. I just thought that you would want your own bed to sleep in. You don't seem like the type of person who wants to share his bed with anyone."

"Ah, you fool," Albel turned, moving toward her, smiling faintly, eyes locked, "You are an exception."

Nel moved backward a step with every step which he had progressed toward her, until she had backed herself into the door. She remained in his path, and he had finally reached her, placing a hand next to each of her shoulders, pinning her against the door. It felt as though his breath was burning her cheeks, though it was his eyes that seemed to burn into her conscience.

Albel drew his hand beneath her chin, smiling brightly, "Without the wind whipping around that robe, I have no concept of your figure. Would you grant me the pleasure of viewing such art?"

Teeming with her image, Albel's eyes were his only visible feature, Nel needed to strain her eyes to see the entirety of his face. As a single candle-flame danced, Albel's shadow cascaded upon Nel. Though she was not ignorant towards the nature of his proposal, she did not want him to feel that dominant power resided solely with him in this endeavor.

Nel locked eyes with him, smiled, and ducked beneath his arm, moving towards the flame. Though their backs were turned to each other, Nel could nearly feel the burn from what she knew he regarded as an insult: they were not going to play the game his way. She tilted her head gently over her shoulder, and she could see that he was frozen in place. Albel definitely seemed the type who was not used to the concept of refusal.

She smiled to herself, turning her gaze towards the dim light emitting from the candle on the bedside table. Even though the entirety of the city was nearly encased within the chill of a blizzard, the room felt unreasonably cold to her, and the candle was of little solace. Resting her hands near the flame, she spurred her circulation for warmth, and planned her move.

Not a word was spoken for minutes, though there was sexual tension, the air could choke them with hostility. Albel was already talking himself out of his initial goal, he was still frozen against the door-frame. Why had she bothered coming here if she did not expect his advances? She might be here in a 'kill or be killed' attempt. Albel assumed that Nel was the type of woman who initiated the attack while her opponent's back was turned, nor did she seem the type to assault someone who was unprepared -an honourable killer.

Shifting from leaning on the wall, using his hands to support his weight, to standing upright, Albel was readying himself to turn around and face his assumed assailant. It felt shameful that a woman who seemed so fiery and agile would fall victim to his claw, however she would continue pursuing him until her death. It all made sense to Albel, she had only followed him here to get revenge for her sisters in arms. No one would ever trace the murder back to her because of her anonymity within this Kingdom. The plan was decent enough, except for the fact that she was taking on Albel.

Turning around, facing his decided enemy, she with her back to him. She was supposed to be facing him, daggers out, ready for a fight -but she was only standing there, staring into what appeared to be nothingness. No voices, no movement, social deadlock.

Nel was not certain, though she thought she had heard Albel stepping towards her, trying to be silent. Strangely, she was not nervous -if anything violent were to happen, he would have done it sooner. Yes, he would have made a spectacle out of it. There was no guise in his approach, and she felt safe. Nothing needed to be said, she thought as she began detaching the robe from itself. She allowed the sleeves to slide down her arms, allowing the warm garment to fall to the floor.

Albel sighed, "You came here unarmed? You had that much faith in your idea?"

Nel turned to face Albel, brushing the wrinkles out of her black skirt, "A little less than faith, and more so a lack of caring."

"A death-wish?" She could hear Albel grinning.

"Closer to apathy. I came here out of my own interest, to test my character."

Albel scoffed, "Why do you need to do that? Are you not of age where you are aware of your character?"

"Yes, but I am aware that the actions I wish to commit are deemed high treason, and I am becoming to realize the actions that I am supposed to fulfill are hypocritical, though they are supposedly in the best interest of my Kingdom."

Albel's smile faded, "And you cannot assess which is more important?"

Eyes turning floor-ward, Nel's heart sinking with them, she stood in silence.

"Now is not the time," Albel smirked, "You probably know my opinion, and I wont tell you what to think."

Her eyes shot back up at Albel, she was not expecting a courteous answer from someone so brash, "I-"

Albel stepped towards her, reaching out with a sly smile, gripping her waist, "I can offer you momentary distraction as a form of condolence."

Nel was tired of trying to analyze his inconsistencies, she began to feel dizzy, and rested into him, with her head on his chest. She could not trust him fully, yet she wanted to be ravaged by this man. She wanted to find momentary security in lecherous rapture, and she was tired of battling her sense of righteousness. It was time to abandon herself, if only for a night; to sample secret treason before devouring the whole fruit.

"I want you to know that I do not trust you, but I know that you and I will suffer equally from this if anyone knows of what we are about to do tonight." Nel hesitantly wrapped her arms around him.

"Please," Following a lustful sigh, Albel growled into her ear, "be worried no more and succumb to your impulses."

Lifting her head off of Albel's chest, Nel stood on the tips of her toes, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck, grasping the back of his head, pulling him down to her -she began to devour his face in warm, wet kisses. Her nails dragged down the nape of his neck as she went to lock tongues, Albel could already feel intense shudders. Moving his hands from her waist, he began to unhook her rust-coloured waist cincher, allowing it to fall at their feet as soon as it was detached. Between kisses, they stripped each other of their clothing, until they were both fully exposed.

As they kissed, Albel pulled her down onto the bed, positioning himself on top of her, he began groping the curves he had long coveted. His licks and kisses slowly moving down her neck, onto her shoulders, near her hips, until he was massaging and devouring her pelvis. Nel could not stop the moans from escaping her lips, she was too focused on preventing herself from thrusting her body upward. To her horror, she looked down and met his eyes, he seemed to enjoy her outcries; he was now tracing the runological designs on her thighs with his cold claw in a successful attempt to hear her whimper.

Shifting his claws from her thigh to her pelvis, he began to drag the talons softly across her porcelain skin. Nel was becoming aroused from the excited smile and bedroom eyes which intensified every time she reacted. It was becoming too much for her, she tossed her head back, and grit her teeth in a sad attempt to feign reaction -it was not orgasmic, but it was too pleasurable to be tickling.

Continuing his assault on her pelvis, Albel switched his gaze from her twisted face to the bright patch of neatly trimmed red between her thighs. He waited until she tossed her head back again, and proceeded to trace her vulva with his free hand, occasionally sliding in to gently caress the sensitive bead between the lips. Her whimpers and pants quickly turned into gently hesitant moans, and it was a large stroke to his ego. Quickly substituting his finger for his tongue, he discovered that he would have to pin her legs down if he did not want to get knocked unconscious. It was not long before he could taste her juices, and he was ecstatic that she was becoming as ready as he was for the main event.

Attempting to quicken the process, he slid a finger into her gently, feeling the warm and moist cavern constricting against him with every quake of pleasure which she expressed verbally. Albel assessed that increasing speed in any aspect other than approach would be too much for her to handle. Nel's body agreed with that sentiment, her head was thrashing left and right to prevent her from feeling overwhelmed. Nearly inconsolable, she knew that she was reaching the point where she couldn't hold back anymore, where she would need him to penetrate, to feel him thrust deep, to quench her thirst.

In between and during load moans, "Albel, I need more..."

Lifting his face from her, "Do you want me inside of you?"

"Yes," Perhaps she was letting him play the game by his rules, but she did not care, "Now!"

Albel smiled slyly, "I thought you'd never ask..."

Albel slowly climbed to his original position, reveling in her lustful expressions, and the way she was wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer. He smiled evily, as he only allowed his erection to rub against the outside of her, forcing intense moans out of her naturally pink lips. Albel loved watching her eyes roll back in her head whenever something was too much for her. Though her face and her voice spoke of a need to stop, her legs coiled around him tighter, and she began to thrust her hips. He decided to taunt her again, kissing her, biting her bottom lip softly, while slowly thrusting the tip of his cock in and out of her narrow crevice. The pressure she created around him as she tightened her muscles was causing him to moan! Albel used this against her, moaning and breathing heavily in her ear.

Nel contracted strongly as a reaction, and Albel was certain that he was going to go mad. He decided that it was time to be engulfed, and to throb together. As he pushed to the hilt inside of her, she began to buck her hips, squeezing tightly. Nel began biting and kissing Albel's neck to hear and feel him loose control -and it was working! He gripped her waist, almost painfully so, and thrust quicker and deeper, knowing that he was close to climax.

Suddenly, Nel pushed him off of her, she pounced on top of him. She straddled him, pushing his throbbing member inside of her, and she began to bounce slowly. Albel could not help but grin, no woman had ever tried to push him around before, and no one had ever made the experience feel as sensational. As she writhed, she grabbed Albel's hand, placing it on her breast, commanding him to grope -Albel had no complaints.

Albel began to squirm and shake, Nel knew his time was growing close, so she decided to give him a surprise. She quickly hopped off of him, positioning herself between his legs, stroking him slowly and tight. As soon as she began stimulating his balls, his legs began to quake. It was not long before her lubrication wore off, thereafter she replaced her hand with her tonsils. Working the shaft with her tongue, sucking deeper, sliding up to only stimulate the head, then swallowing him quickly -he was practically screaming! As she bobbed her head up and down, she could feel him cringe, and he was beginning to moan louder and quicker. She quickly began playing with his balls, while stimulating only the head with her tongue and sucking, it was only seconds later that he thrust upward and filled her mouth with his cream.

Suffice to say, they were tired after that adventure. Luckily, they were already in bed, and too tired to care about the sweat that had accumulated upon the sheets. Though the end of their night is not suitable to the experience they had just shared, Nel fell asleep in Albel's arms. A night of release, and a night filled with forbidden fruit.


End file.
